


whatever I lack, you make up

by gabgee



Series: college au [1]
Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drinking, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Minho Ships It, Oblivious Newt, Oblivious Thomas, Pining, everyone ships it, i'll add more tags later idk, minho and newt are roommates/childhood besties, newt loves reading and drawing, not for long, teresa is the best friend ever, thomas loves science and running
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-14 13:43:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14137221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabgee/pseuds/gabgee
Summary: Newt realises he might be a little bit in love with one of his best friends.





	1. one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt, Thomas and Minho attend Teresa's birthday party. Certain comments from his friends about his and Thomas' relationship send Newt's mind into overdrive.

**To: Newt**

**From: Tommy**

help

 

**To: Newt**

**From: Tommy**

pls tell me you’re still going tonight

 

**To: Newt**

**From: Tommy**

i need u to do my face paint

 

**To: Newt**

**From: Tommy**

minho offered but he lacks ur artistic excellence and i don’t trust him

 

**To: Newt**

**From: Tommy**

i’m omw over so u better be ready to make me beautiful

 

 

**To: Tommy**

**From: Newt**

You owe me one

 

**To: Newt**

**From: Tommy**

is that a yes ????? :D

 

**To: Tommy**

**From: Newt**

 Yes, hurry up. Party starts in an hour

 

**To: Newt**

**From: Tommy**

YOU ARE THE BEST <3 ok just leaving

 

**To: Tommy**

**From: Newt**

 Thought you were on your way?

 

**To: Newt**

**From: Tommy**

i lied

 

 

Newt tried and failed to suppress an amused smile and chucked his phone back onto his bed. He picked up the tube of paint he’d abandoned and turned back to Minho, who sat on the bed looking up at him with half a face of intricate blue patterns. 

“He coming here first or meeting us there?” Minho asked. 

“Comin’ here. He wants me to do his paint.” Newt continued his task, dabbing at Minho’s face gently with the thin brush he’d chosen for the task. He gave Minho a firm look when the boy opened his mouth in shock. Minho shut it quickly and rolled his eyes.

“Sorry, forgot. No more moving. But that bastard! I said _I’d_ do it and he told me he was really excited to do it himself.”

Newt chuckled — not only at Minho’s disgust over Thomas’ betrayal but also at his poor attempt to keep his lips as still as possible as he spoke.

“He says he doesn’t trust you.”

“I’ll kill him.”

“Doubt that’d help your case.”

 

Fifteen minutes later Newt declared Minho appropriately "painted up" for Teresa’s party, as their text invites had demanded; they didn't quite know to what extent everyone else was going with the theme, but had decided they would just do their faces. Minho had tried to persuade Newt he should do his arms, chest and torso too. After a few threats of moving out from Newt, Minho relented. 

Minho bounded up and into the bathroom quickly, thrilled to be able to move after so long of sitting still. Newt laughed at the sound of his friend whooping as he admired his own reflection. "Dude, it looks awesome! Even better than yours,” Minho grinned as he came back into the room. Newt raised a hand to the orange designs he’d done for himself, gently tracing the soft ridges of dried paint.

 “Yeah, well. It’s kinda hard to do yourself.” Newt sighed when Minho wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at the accidental innuendo. “Shut up. What colour d’ya think would suit Tommy best?”

A knock at the door interrupted Minho’s reply.

“Come in!” the two boys shouted at the same time. The apartment was rarely locked, much to Newt’s disapproval. Minho insisted it was safe and that it made them look ‘cool and welcoming’ if their friends could walk in whenever. Newt secretly locked it whenever he could do so without being scolded.

Thomas burst into Newt’s room a few moments later, slightly out of breath. He looked between Newt and Minho in awe.

“That looks so fucking cool! Newt, you’re a genius.”

“Thanks, Tommy. Hello to you, too,” Newt replied, blushing a little at the compliment and Thomas’ approving gaze. Minho bounded over and he and Thomas performed their ridiculous secret handshake which ended in a bear hug. Rolling his eyes at them, Newt turned back to his fluorescent paints and chose one for Thomas. “Green?”

“Green sounds good,” Thomas answered, throwing himself onto the edge of Newt’s bed. He reached up and poked under Newt’s eyes before getting his hand swatted away. “Can you do those swirly things on me?”

“Sure. We don’t have much time though, it might not be perfect.”

 “It’ll be awesome,” Thomas shrugged and beamed up at Newt, who stepped forwards to position himself between Thomas’ legs for the best angle to work with. Newt found Thomas’ faith in him a little intimidating.

“Cute,” Minho called as he walked backwards out of the room. “You’ll be all matching. I’m gonna grab a beer.”

Getting Thomas to stay still and not talk too much was even harder than it had been with Minho. Several times, Newt had to force Thomas’ legs to stop jiggling, or shout at him to stop singing along to the music Minho was playing in the kitchen. 

Thomas settled for tapping his foot and humming along whilst Newt continued his work in comfortable silence. He found himself inspecting the flecks of green in Thomas’ brown eyes and inwardly congratulating himself for his choice of paint colour. It brought out his features perfectly. Even as the thought formed in his mind, Newt considered that it was a little weird of him. Everything about the situation felt strangely intimate in a way it hadn’t with Minho; he supposed it was because he hadn’t known Thomas as long.

 

“Okay, that’ll do,” Newt sighed after a while. He’d painted swirls under Thomas’ eyes that trailed down to his cheeks, matching his own, adding a few dots above his eyebrows and across his jawline. It was much less detailed than Minho’s aztec design, but he’d had more time to work on that. Thomas got up and headed into the bathroom to check out Newt’s work, just as Minho had done.

He re-emerged a minute later looking furious. Newt’s heart dropped.

“‘ _That’ll do_?’” Thomas spat before dropping the act and grinning widely. “Newt, this looks fucking amazing!”

“Jesus, Tommy, you scared me. Thought you were gonna say you hated it or I ruined your good looks or somethin’.”

Thomas laughed and the sound lightened the weight Newt felt pressing on his chest. He followed Thomas out of the room after begrudgingly accepting the side-hug that was forced upon him.

“Sorry, sorry. Just hate it when you put yourself down. Now, let’s get drunk.”

Once again, Newt had to hide his blushing cheeks and involuntary smirk at Thomas’ words. He shoved his friend playfully and accepted a beer from Minho.

“Good that.”

 

***

 

After quickly drinking a couple of beers at home, the trio walked the short distance to Brenda and Teresa’s apartment. They were a little late; the rooms were already full of people, chatting and drinking happily. The lights were down low and several UV lamps had been placed around the room, making everyone’s body paint glow impressively. 

However, Newt’s stomach twisted a little uncomfortably at the sight of so many strangers. Thomas patted his shoulder reassuringly and Newt sent him a small smile, wondering how he could always sense his mood so acutely. Minho, though he’d been his best friend since middle school and roommate since they started college, needed slightly less subtle hints. It didn’t bother Newt, though. Minho was always there when he needed someone to rant at or go crazy with.  

The three of them pushed through the crowd until they found a few familiar faces. Brenda actually screamed when she saw them, already pretty drunk, and greeted them all with a sloppy kiss to the cheek. Newt cringed but smiled genuinely at her, admiring the slightly smudged lines of pink paint that adorned her face.

“Where’s the birthday girl?” Newt asked her, looking around for Teresa. He gave Frypan and Gally a nod in greeting.

“Probably getting more drinks,” Brenda slurred. “Which is exactly what _you_ should be doing. You’ve got catching up to do!”

“We’re not that late,” Thomas said with a grin, still glued to Newt’s side with an arm slung loosely around his shoulders. Newt noticed Brenda glance between them curiously. He supposed it was because if anyone else was as close to him as Thomas currently was, he’d probably have hit them by now. With the exception of Minho — maybe. Depending on Newt’s mood.

“So, what’s with the paint thing?” Newt asked curiously. He’d usually have rejected the idea immediately but Minho and Thomas had persuaded him. It was Teresa’s birthday, after all, and Newt had to admit that doing the designs on himself and his friends had been pretty fun.

“Teresa wanted to do something different,” Brenda said with a soft smile. “Costume parties and shit like that are boring.”

“Is that it? I thought it was gonna be some fancy metaphor for something,” Thomas whined.

Newt scoffed. “What the bloody hell would face paint be a metaphor for?”

Thomas shrugged, giggling. He dropped his hand from Newt’s shoulder and backed into the crowd, gesturing that he was going to get them drinks. Newt nodded with a smirk and watched him disappear into the kitchen before turning back to his friends.

“You guys fucking yet?” Gally called out loudly. It took Newt a moment to realise he was talking to him.

“What? Who?” Newt replied. He was genuinely baffled by the seemingly random question.

“You and Thomas. Or should I say ‘ _Tommy_ ’?”

Newt allowed his mouth drop open in shock at Gally’s words. He furrowed his eyebrows, looking around to his friends for help and being met with nothing but amused smiles and raised eyebrows. Not one of them looked as confused as he felt. 

“What on Earth are you on about, mate?” Newt said eventually with an incredulous laugh.

“Oh, come on. You look at him like you wanna rip his clothes off and —”

“That’s bullshit,” Newt interrupted, not keen to hear the rest of the sentence. “We’re just friends.” 

Gally rolled his eyes and looked around at their friends expectantly. Newt followed his gaze and was met with an evil smirk from Minho, a noncommittal shrug from Frypan and silent laughter from Brenda. He sighed and threw his hands up in defeat. 

“No one’s gonna help me out here?” 

“I don’t know, man,” Minho drawled. He was clearly enjoying Newt’s discomfort. “He’s got a point. You two _are_ kinda all over each other. It took you years to warm up to me like that. He’s broken you down in, like, six months.”

“Because we’re _friends_. Good friends. Best friends.”  

“Say ‘friends’ one more time,” Brenda muttered, earning a death glare from Newt. He turned back to Minho with a grunt after receiving a punch in the arm. 

“ _I’m_ your best friend, shank!”  

“I’m starting to question that decision,” Newt grumbled. “Can we drop this?” 

“Sure. Your boyfriend’s on his way back, anyway. Wouldn’t want to embarrass you in front of him,” Gally said with a grin. The others laughed as Newt rolled his eyes dramatically. 

Thomas rejoined the group, handing Newt and Minho drinks. Teresa followed soon after and Newt greeted her with a hug and a happy birthday wish. He was relieved when the conversation turned away from his and Thomas’ relationship and onto less humiliating topics.

It wasn’t that he and Thomas hadn’t been mistaken for a couple before. They had a few times, in fact; the difference being it was usually by strangers or acquaintances who didn’t know them well. He supposed it was because of Thomas’ touchy-feely nature. He'd probably been confused for Minho’s boyfriend, too. Maybe even Teresa’s. But the fact that Gally, one of Newt’s closest friends at college, was insinuating that their relationship was anything but platonic deeply unsettled him. And he knew Minho was joking around, trying to unnerve him further — but why hadn’t he shown even a trace of shock or confusion at the suggestion?

“What’s up?” Thomas murmured close to Newt’s ear. Newt looked up and shook his head in an attempt to clear it; he hadn’t even realised how spaced out he’d been. Or that Thomas was back by his side.

“Nothing, sorry. Zoned out for a sec.” He raised his beer to his lips and gulped almost half of it down in seconds. Thomas nodded, though his eyes continued to search Newt’s face, and followed suit with his own drink.

  

*** 

 

An hour or so passed uneventfully, though Newt was pleasantly surprised to find himself having a good time. Parties weren’t necessarily his scene, but Teresa and Brenda had invited a nice group of people who didn’t seem too crazy; he barely knew anyone there other than his close friends, but it didn’t bother him for once. Newt was tipsy, as were most of the guests, but no one was getting out of hand or being annoying. People chatted, danced, drank. It was refreshing; the few parties Newt had bothered to attend since starting college six months ago had been pretty disastrous. Especially the first one Minho had dragged him along to — which happened to be the current topic of conversation.

“I literally don’t remember it at all,” Minho exclaimed, laughing hysterically. 

“Of course you don’t,” Newt scoffed. “You had ten shots in the first half hour and left me to fend for myself with all of your sports buddies.” 

“I’m sorry! That’s literally your worst nightmare.” 

“But hey,” Thomas chipped in. “At least you met me.”

“Wait, that’s how you guys met?” Frypan asked curiously. Newt and Thomas nodded in sync whilst Minho continued to chuckle at his own hilarity.

“Tommy took pity on me. Must’ve looked pretty tragic, some lanky kid stood alone in the corner trying to avoid being forced to drink vodka by any beefy track guys,” Newt groaned at the memory. He’d felt so unbelievably out of place around all Minho’s beer-chugging, heavily muscled friends.

“That’s _not_ what happened!” Thomas said incredulously. “I wasn’t taking pity. You looked cool and not shitfaced so I was like, hey, this guy might actually be able to hold a conversation for more than twenty seconds.”  

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Tommy,” Newt shot back with a grin. 

He tried not to think about the actuality of what had happened that night. How he’d mistaken Thomas’ genuine friendliness for flirting and started to develop a crush unhealthily quickly. And how that dream had been quickly shattered when Thomas told him he had to leave early to meet some girl he was dating — Rachel, had it been? They’d broken up a couple of weeks later, but Newt swore to himself he wouldn’t go down that road again. By that time, he and Thomas were getting to be fairly good friends; he was determined not to ruin it. Plus, he was pretty much over it by then. Over him. Pretty much. 

Newt hadn’t even thought about it since those first few weeks of college and of friendship. Remembering it now was making his heart rate quicken significantly.

Luckily, at that moment, Gally returned out of nowhere and shoved shots into everyone’s hands. Newt had no idea where he’d gotten them from, but took one reluctantly. He knew his friends would give him hell if he didn’t. Brenda pulled everyone into a circle and gestured to them to raise their glasses in the middle.

“To Teresa!” she said with a sparkling smile in Teresa’s direction. Everyone repeated her before throwing back their shots. Newt laughed at everyone’s varying expressions of disgust.

  

***

  

A little later, as the party begun to die down, Newt found himself on the couch next to the birthday girl herself. They were chatting about nothing in particular; Teresa’s birthday presents from Brenda, who the other guests were, stuff of no consequence. Newt found himself watching Thomas and Minho as they talked to Harriet, a girl Brenda had introduced to them that night.

“Jealous?” Teresa asked suddenly, following Newt’s line of sight. Newt laughed.

“Yeah, how dare she steal my friends from me,” he replied sarcastically.

“I meant that she’s flirting with Thomas, but sure.” 

Newt sighed dramatically and threw his head onto the back of the sofa. “Not you, too.”

“Oh come on, Newt. I’ve known Thomas since we were, like, five. I’m not stupid, even if _he_ is,” Teresa mumbled. Newt was grateful she had at least approached the subject in a private and subtle manner.

“I dunno what you want me to say. It’s not like that.” 

“But you want it to be.” It wasn’t a question. Newt finally turned to look at her and was met with a piercing, but genuine, expression. She seemed desperate for him to open up. Something in the sincerity of her face made Newt want to, for once. He could always blame it on the alcohol. 

“ _Fine_. I used to, kinda. But only right at the beginning of the year, when we first met.” 

“And now? What changed?”

A good point, Newt realised. What, if anything, had changed? He could (and did) still appreciate Thomas' good looks and toned body. But since they were such good friends now, Newt hadn't ever bothered to look at him with an open mind for anything more than that. He was beginning to realise that actually, not a lot had changed at all except his own willingness to see Thomas in a romantic way.

Newt’s insides were burning. He could feel the regret of his next words before he’d even formed them on his tongue.

“I don’t know…”

_Where_ had this come from? Sure, he'd hardly declared his undying  love or even _anything_ concrete, but Newt had been vehemently denying any romance between himself and Thomas all night. And it hadn’t felt like he was lying. Yet here he was, unable to confirm to Teresa the simple fact that he no longer had feelings for their friend.

Teresa seemed to sense his inner conflict. She smiled, put a hand on his knee and stood up. When he looked at her questioningly, she subtly nodded her head behind her and Newt saw that Thomas was heading over. Just before he was in earshot, Teresa leaned forwards and whispered four words that sent Newt’s already confused brain into complete overdrive.

“He feels the same.”

She sauntered off, leaving Newt reeling. He didn’t have long to compose himself before Thomas flopped down next to him.

“Hey, buddy,” Thomas grinned. Newt stared at him, taking in his features quickly and trying to make sense of everything that he’d just started to realise. Thomas’ eyes bored into Newt’s with a soft intensity. Newt once again admired the way the green paint made his features pop: his long lashes, toothy smile, freckled skin. How his shiny hair flopped over his forehead messily, yet each loose strand still managed to look completely intentional. How his arms, smooth and strong, spread out over the back of the couch as if he owned it. 

And Newt tried to work out how all this made him feel. Simultaneously comforted and nervous, excited and terrified. When Thomas’ gaze flickered around Newt’s face curiously, as if searching for something that only he could give him, Newt desperately wished he knew what that was; if he did, he knew he’d give it up in an instant.

 

_Oh, shit._

 

“Hi, Tommy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO
> 
> this is my first multi-chaptered fic and i am scared so pleaseeeee let me know what you think! i have the following chapters all planned out BUT if you have any suggestions, share em! i might be able to incorporate them somehow
> 
> anyway this whole thing stemmed from the idea of newt doing thomas' face paint for a party so yay


	2. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt reflects on his newfound feelings for Thomas and how he should deal with them (with a little help from a friend).

The rest of that night passed in a complete blur. Newt felt as though he’d been hit around the head — or like he was thrice as drunk as he actually was. He managed to put on a pretty impressive performance, though. He chatted and laughed with his friends, including Thomas, ignoring the increased rate at which his heartbeat whenever he thought about what he’d just realised.

It wasn’t until Sunday night, really, that Newt allowed himself to freak out. He and Minho hadn’t arrived home from Teresa’s until nearly three in the morning on Friday, so he’d crashed straight onto his bed without a spare thought. The day after the party had been busy, too. Minho and Thomas had track practise and persuaded Newt to come and watch so that he could go for food with them afterward. Though being in Thomas’ presence was slightly panic-inducing, he still managed to keep his cool. Come Saturday night, he was exhausted again after spending yet another day socialising (not Newt’s ideal weekend — he’d much rather have been reading one of his new books), and so he fell asleep stupidly early and managed to avoid thinking once again.

So, Sunday night, after an uneventful day of studying in the Library and playing Mario Kart with Minho, Newt lay in bed panicking. 

He should’ve worked it out earlier, he reflected; he’d literally had a crush on Thomas the first moment he met the boy. But somehow, he’d managed to repress his feelings in favour of developing their friendship and now he felt like a complete idiot. He knew he’d made matters worse by pursuing said friendship, because now his crush had turned into something so much deeper, yet there was nothing he could do about it. There was no way he would risk losing Thomas. He valued the friendship way more than his own feelings.

Newt was starting to come to the conclusion that if he had been that good at ignoring how he felt up until now, it wouldn’t be too hard to continue in the same manner. Then his phone rang.

He let out a frustrated groan when he saw the name — and the time — that flashed up on his screen but he didn’t hesitate to answer.

“Tommy, it’s nearly half two in the morning,” Newt snapped in way of greeting.

“I know, I’m sorry! Were you sleeping?” Thomas’ voice sounded sincere and surprisingly awake.

“No, but I could’ve been. So you better be dying to make this worth it.”

“I’m alive and well, sorry to disappoint. But oh my _God_ , I just finished reading _The Hobbit_ and you were right, I loved it.”

“You did?” Newt replied excitedly, all annoyance quickly forgotten.

“ _Yes_! Tolkien is a fucking genius!”

Newt was stunned into amused silence as Thomas rambled on for a solid twenty minutes about his favourite characters and scenes. He only occasionally hummed in agreement or responded to Thomas’ questions and theories. Newt couldn’t even bring himself to tease Thomas for being so excited about a book that he himself had read nearly ten years ago; his friend’s joy was contagious and Newt felt flattered that Thomas wanted to share the moment with him.

“Anyway, thanks for persuading me to read it. And for lending it to me. _And_ for not getting too mad at me for calling in the middle of the night. You’re the best.”

“So I’ve been told,” Newt said sarcastically. He secretly commended himself for keeping his voice level when he felt as though his insides were exploding with happiness at Thomas’ words. “Can I sleep now?”

“Wait, one more thing…”

Ten minutes later they finally hung up. Newt flopped down face first into his pillow and noticed that he was grinning from ear to ear. 

Yeah, there was no way he could ignore his feelings. Not this time.

 

***

 

Newt spent the next morning in his practical fine art seminar. He was glad for the distractive nature of the class and the fact he didn’t have to pretend to listen to any lecturers. He threw himself into completing a drawing he’d been working on for a while, trying to focus on it wholeheartedly instead of spacing out and thinking about Thomas. Again.

Luckily, he got through it without incident and started to make his way home. Mondays weren’t too unbearable for him; he only had the one class and it was over by midday. He was halfway through the walk to his and Minho’s apartment when a voice called his name. He turned and smiled as Teresa jogged across the road towards him.

“Hey,” he greeted her warmly.

“Hi! Do you not have any classes today?”

“Only one, it just finished. You?”

“Nothing. I was just heading to get coffee.” Teresa grinned. “Wanna grab lunch?”

Newt considered saying no. Usually, he would when anyone other than Minho or Thomas would ask him to hang out one on one. Not because he was unsociable, it’s just he didn’t enjoy uncomfortable silences and that’s what these situations often entailed. But he _had_ been fine left alone with Teresa for a good half an hour on Friday night; he hoped today would be the same. Plus, she was the only one who he’d actually managed to open up to about the Thomas situation thus far. He could really use her advice.

“Yeah, sure.”

They wandered to a small cafe nearby and found seats in the far corner from the door. Newt saw a few familiar faces around — people from his classes, since they were so close to campus — and wondered why he’d never been here before. It was nice, cosy, with wide windows that let in plenty of sunlight.

“You come here much?” Newt asked after they’d ordered food and drinks. Teresa hummed in assent.

“Thomas and I study here sometimes. And I’ve come with Brenda, too.”

“Wow,” Newt drawled. “There I was, thinking I was special.”

They chatted easily about their days, the party and other small talk until after their food had been and gone. Newt felt an impending sense that something was closing in on him; he knew one of them had to bring up their conversation from Friday sooner or later. He decided he’d much rather it be him so that it could be on his terms.

“Listen, what you said the other night… about Thomas feeling the same. What did you mean?” he asked tentatively, hoping to keep any note of desperation from his voice. Teresa’s raised eyebrows and playful smirk told him he’d failed.

“I think you know,” she quipped.

“I really, really don’t.”

Teresa sighed. “Look, I know Gally was a bit explicit, but what he said was true. You look at him in a way that _friends_ definitely don’t.”

“I hadn’t — I didn’t even realise,” Newt mumbled. He was embarrassed to be letting his guard down so easily, but he really needed someone to talk to about all this and since Teresa already seemed to know exactly what he was feeling, he decided it couldn’t hurt. “Until that night I really did think I only saw him as a friend.”

“I gathered.”

"I thought I could ignore it," Newt sighed, leaning his head against the back of his chair defeatedly. "But then he called me in the middle of the night all excited over _The Hobbit_ and —"

"The film?" Teresa interrupted. Newt looked at her with furrowed eyebrows.

"No, the book. I let him borrow it."

"You got _Thomas_ to _read_?"

"Is this relevant?" Newt groaned. Teresa raised her eyebrows as if he was being ridiculously stupid. He probably was.

"Very. That idiot has not read a book since sixth grade. Now I'm one hundred percent sure he feels the same."  Teresa smiled at Newt sweetly. He felt a little patronised, though he knew she meant well. He just wasn’t used to not having the upper hand in regards to his own thoughts. “Look, Newt, I’ve known Tom a long time. He’s never acted like he does around you around anyone else. Not that I've seen, anyway.”

“That doesn’t mean he _likes_ me though,” Newt reasoned. “Everyone shows different sides to themselves depending on who they’re around.”

Teresa frowned a little and nodded slowly as if considering this point deeply.

“You should ask him, then.”

Newt nearly spat out his drink.

“There is no chance I’m asking him — or telling him — anything to do with this.” Teresa started to protest. “No, Teresa, I can’t lose him. He’s the first real friend that’s stuck around since I met Minho.”

Teresa looked a little taken aback by this but recovered well. “Okay, okay. I get it, I do. Just — don’t torture yourself, alright? You need to put yourself first. If not knowing becomes unbearable, I think you should talk to him about it.”

Newt nodded gratefully, dropping his head into his hands. “Please don’t tell him.”

“I wouldn’t dare. And Newt?” Newt looked up at her and raised an eyebrow. “Just for the record, I plan on sticking around, too.”

Teresa laughed at his eye roll and reached forward to ruffle his hair. Newt tried to pretend this annoyed him.

They spent the rest of their spontaneous cafe trip discussing ways that they could find out how Thomas felt without outright asking him. That way, Newt would have some indication of the response he'd get if ever got the guts to confess. The thing was, Thomas was a fairly open book with his feelings. Newt felt certain that he’d have noticed something by now if Thomas really did have a crush on him. But Teresa had insisted that with stuff like this, he was a little oblivious and often needed a nudge in the right direction. Newt had made Teresa promise several times that she didn’t know more than she was letting on in regards to Thomas’ feelings; he believed her when she said she didn’t. Apparently, as close as they were, she and Thomas didn’t tend to talk about _these things_. 

In the end, they’d decided that Newt needed to initiate contact a bit more and see how Thomas reacted. Newt thanked her for being patient and kind and Teresa waved him off with sparkling eyes. After they said goodbye, Newt realised that she wanted this to work out nearly as much as he did.

 

***

 

That evening, Newt ended up sat on his bedroom floor with his phone in his hand, thinking of a million different ways he could ask Thomas to come over at some point this week. Weirdly, he’d never had to do it before; Minho and Thomas were always the instigators. Most of the time, Thomas just turned up with no pre-warning. Newt smiled at the thought.

He typed out the message for the fifteenth time and pressed send before he had the chance to overthink it.

 

**To: Tommy**

**From: Newt**

 You wanna borrow the rest of the LOTR series?

 

 

Newt sighed and laid back on his floor, staring at the ceiling and feeling completely pathetic. How on Earth was he this worked up over asking one of his closest friends such a simple question? He hated himself for it.

He hated himself more when he practically jumped up at the sound of his phone buzzing.

 

 

**To: Newt**

**From: Tommy**

YES YES YES YES YESYESYEsssSS YES YES PLEASE

 

 

Newt laughed out loud. He could almost visualise Thomas jumping up and down excitedly like a little kid.

 

 

**To: Tommy**

**From: Newt**

 Bloody hell, don’t give yourself a heart attack. Come get them tomorrow night?

 

 

**To: Newt**

**From: Tommy**

sorry i am very cool and calm actually. sounds good i finish class at 5

 

 

**To: Tommy**

**From: Newt**

 Bring snacks. Mario Kart tournament

 

 

**To: Newt**

**From: Tommy**

 i’m with minho and he wants me to say “wtf thanks for telling me traitor :-(“

 

 

**To: Tommy**

**From: Newt**

 Tell him he’s not invited (and ask him when he's coming home)

 

 

**To: Newt**

**From: Tommy**

 oooohhh so it’s like a date? ;-) (in like ten minutes)

 

 

 

 

**To: Tommy**

**From: Newt**

 Was that you or Minho? Either way, I hate you

 

 

**To: Newt**

**From: Tommy**

it is me and no u don’t u love me xxx

 

 

_Yeah, I do_ , Newt thought with a groan. Thomas really wasn’t making life easier for him. Then again, had he ever?

 

 

**To: Tommy**

**From: Newt**

 Yeah yeah, whatever. See ya tomorrow loser x

 

 

**To: Newt**

**From: Tommy**

can’t wait babycakes <3

 

 

**To: Tommy**

**From: Newt**

 Don’t push it

 

 

 

Fifteen minutes later, Newt was sat on the couch working on a sketch when Minho walked through the door and flopped down next to him.

“That looks awesome, man,” Minho said, peering over Newt’s shoulder. Newt shrugged defeatedly.

“Thanks. I don’t like it.”

“You never do.” He rolled his eyes. “And whatever you were texting Thomas, I don’t wanna know. That kid was smiling like an idiot.”

Newt’s neck literally clicked with how fast he looked up at his roommate. Minho raised his eyebrows at this.

“Were you _sexting_?” Minho teased. Newt hid his blush by picking up a pillow and shoving it in Minho’s face before getting up and storming into the kitchen, middle finger raised over his shoulder. He ignored Minho’s manic laughter and got started on cooking them both dinner.

 

Newt knew the food was burnt. He was eternally grateful that Minho was too hungry to notice. He was also thoroughly relieved that Minho somehow managed to miss the fact that Newt hadn’t stopped smirking since he'd found out how Thomas had reacted to his messages.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi !!! apologies for a fairly uneventful chapter but just wanted to get a bit more of an establishment of newt's feelings in there andddd development on his friendship with teresa (i love her sm)
> 
> but enjoy more cute texts, they're literally my fave thing to write
> 
> hope you like it! pls let me know what you thought <3


	3. three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas comes over for Tolkein and Mario Kart and ends up staying the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Newt discusses his mental health and (kind of) suicide attempt.

Newt sat on the couch tapping his feet impatiently. He tried to relax, but instead found himself checking the time three times a minute. He swore the seconds were getting slower and slower.

“What’s up with you?” Minho asked from his position lying on the floor in front of the television, scrolling through his phone. “You’re all stiff and jittery.”

“You’re not even looking at me,” Newt mumbled in reply. He cursed himself for not being more subtle in his nerves and shook out his limbs with a sigh, trying to relax into the couch more.

“I can feel you freaking out from over here. Seriously, what’s going on?” He put down his phone and propped himself up on an elbow so as to see Newt’s face more clearly.

Newt wanted to tell him. He really did; Minho was his best friend and he knew he’d be supportive of his feelings, and probably helpful with advice too. To some extent. But Thomas was due to arrive any minute and Newt didn’t feel that now was the right time to let Minho in on his secret. As encouraging as Minho could be when he wanted to, he was also a massive tease. Newt knew if he told him now he’d spend the whole evening making innuendos and trying to make Newt blush.

So instead, he shrugged and said, “Just bored. You’re not talking to me and Tommy’s taking his bloody time getting here.”

Something in the smirk Minho sent his way made Newt think that maybe he wouldn’t have to tell him anything, after all. Maybe he already knew.

Luckily, the door crashed open before Minho could respond.

“I didn’t know what snacks to get so I kind of got everything,” Thomas said, holding up three full shopping bags and looking flustered. 

Newt and Minho stared at him for a few seconds before bursting into laughter. Thomas’ gaze went back and forth between the two of them, innocent and confused.

“Do you ever enter a room like a normal person?” Minho asked once he’d calmed himself down. 

“Nope,” Thomas grinned, catching onto their amusement. He winked at Newt, who was fairly sure his soul briefly left his body in that moment. “It’s all part of the charm.”

Newt scoffed as Thomas dumped the bags on the coffee table and flopped onto the couch next to him. 

“What charm?” he said with a smirk. Thomas smiled back warmly and Newt tried to pretend that didn’t make his heart do somersaults.

“Aw, come on,” Thomas replied, throwing an arm over the back of the couch and brushing his fingers along Newt’s cheek teasingly. Newt promptly slapped him away; he had to maintain at least some semblance of not wanting Thomas to touch him. “Won you guys over, didn’t I?”

“We could change our minds,” Minho joined in, standing up from the floor. He peered into Thomas’ bags of food and nodded approvingly. “Actually, you can stay. You bought salted popcorn.”

Thomas laughed a hearty, musical laugh and Newt’s stomach flipped. God, he wished he was still blissfully oblivious to the fact everything about Thomas made him feel warm inside.

“Tommy, help me get the food ready,” Newt said, pushing himself to his feet. “Minho, set the game up?”

“Yes, sir!” Minho said with a salute. Newt flipped him off, already half way to the kitchen with two of the food bags. Thomas followed loyally with the other.

Truthfully, Newt forgot all about his and Teresa’s plan the moment Thomas started babbling away to him as they prepared the snacks. He was so caught up in his friend’s infectious excitement — over the food he’d bought, Mario Kart and once again, _The Hobbit_ — that he didn’t have it in him to try and bring the mood down to a serious level. He’d think of some other way to find out how Thomas felt; the touchy flirting Teresa had suggested wasn’t his style, anyway.

“Newt?” Thomas said gently from the kitchen doorway. He had bowls of popcorn and chips balanced on each hand. “You coming?”

“Yeah,” Newt breathed, shaking his head clear. He picked up the remaining snacks and made his way over to where Thomas stood. “Sorry.”

He’d been intending to follow Thomas out into the living room, but his friend stayed where he was and gazed at Newt intensely. Newt raised his eyebrows questioningly.

“What?”

“Are you alright? You’ve been a bit spacey these past few days,” Thomas said bluntly. His eyes were wide with genuine concern. Newt’s lips quirked up into a small smile; it really did mean a lot to him that Thomas noticed the little things, whether it be in a friendly manner or something more. He almost laughed out loud at the thought of telling Thomas what was really going on.

“Tommy, you gotta stop worryin’ about me. I’m all good,” Newt replied and reached out to pat Thomas on the shoulder.

“Promise?” Thomas said seriously, though Newt could see a trace of humour in his expression. He suddenly felt very aware of how close they were stood.

“I’ll bloody pinky promise if it makes you feel any better.”

“It would,” Thomas nodded, trying and failing to keep a straight face. “Maybe not when I’m carrying an armful of snacks, though.”

“Good that.”

They stared at each other for a few moments longer than strictly necessary. Newt forced himself not to look at Thomas’ lips.

“Are you shanks gonna get in here so I can beat your asses at Mario Kart or what?” Minho shouted from the lounge. Newt continued to look at Thomas as both their faces split into wide grins.

“After you,” Newt said in a falsely posh voice, opening the door for Thomas.

“Always the gentleman.”

 

Six Mario Kart tournaments later (all of which Newt lost) Minho announced he was going to bed and got up from where he’d been sandwiched between Newt and Thomas on the couch.

“Dude, it’s only eleven,” Thomas whined. Newt secretly agreed but stayed quiet. Hey, if Minho wanted to leave him and Thomas alone, who was he to complain?

“I have class at eight and want to run before. You not coming?”

“It’s my day off, I want a lie in. I’ll run after lunch,” Thomas responded. 

Newt picked at his nails absentmindedly, trying to block out the conversation. He never thought he’d say it, but he missed running. He had tried it a few times after he broke his leg, but the pain wasn’t worth it. He’d never been as fast or fit as Minho, but they used to have fun racing each other and helping one another train.

“Fair enough, man,” Minho said. He and Thomas did a half-hearted bro-handshake and Newt rolled his eyes at them. As usual. “Goodnight children. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

And with that he disappeared into his room.

Thomas flung his legs up from the floor and over Newt’s lap, laying down against the armrest with his hands behind his head.

“What d’ya think that means?”

“Dunno. There’s not much Minho wouldn’t do so I say we’ve got a pretty free reign,” Newt answered. He slid down slightly in his seat to get more comfortable, trying his best not to disturb Thomas too much as he did so.

“I can go if you want?” Thomas said, sitting up a little. Newt laughed, reached over and pushed him back down with a hand on his stomach. The toned muscle he felt under his fingertips made him pull away as if burned. There was no way he was going to let his mind wander down that road with Thomas’ legs in his lap.

“Don’t be stupid,” Newt scoffed. “Like you said, it’s only eleven.”

“I know but I don’t wanna overstay my welcome.”

“You scared to be alone with me, Tommy?” Newt teased.

“Maybe a little,” Thomas grinned. “It’s been a while since it was just me and you, though, huh?”

“Has it?” Newt pondered this for a while. Come to think of it, he hadn’t been alone with Thomas for a couple of weeks. The fact Thomas noticed this made something inside him jolt nervously. “Been keeping count?”

“Yeah, missed you,” Thomas mumbled in response. Newt finally looked over at him again and was surprised to see he was being serious. Not a trace of teasing or laughter could be found on his face.

“What?” Newt snapped. He didn’t mean it to come out so harsh, but his surprise at Thomas’ admission overtook his brain and mouth for a moment.

“I like it when it’s just us sometimes,” Thomas admitted, cheeks flushed and clearly embarrassed. He met Newt’s eyes nonetheless. “Is that weird?”

“No, no, not weird. Sorry, Tommy.” Newt took a deep breath and placed his hand on one of Thomas’ knees that still stretched out over his own legs. “We’ll make sure to make more time for… that. Yeah?”

Thomas nodded eagerly. “As long as Minho doesn’t get jealous.”

“He’ll live,” Newt joked. He was glad to get back onto less serious ground. He was used to Thomas’ bluntness, but it wasn’t usually aimed at him. He felt like he’d lost some of the composure he finally managed to regain after their conversation in the kitchen. The fact Thomas wanted to make sure they hung out just the two of them more often was sending his heart racing, which was a feeling he'd been trying to avoid tonight. He just wanted to spend time with Thomas without freaking out. But this had to mean something, right? “Plus, if we just tell him we’re talking about Tolkien he’ll probably fuck off anyway.”

Thomas laughed. “To be fair, I would’ve done the same until a couple of days ago.”

“Glad I could change ya mind.”

“Don’t expect me to read any of that Orville stuff you’re obsessed with, though.”

“Orwell!” Newt groaned. “It’s George Orwell, you bloody idiot.”

 

Two hours later, Newt and Thomas lay at either end of the couch with their legs stretched out so that they tangled in the middle. They’d been talking non-stop, covering every subject they could possibly think of; from books to movies to classes to their friends and families. Now, Newt was throwing the leftover popcorn at Thomas, pretending to aim for his mouth but secretly enjoying hitting him everywhere but. Thomas’ frustration was endearingly hilarious.

“You’re not even trying!” Thomas whined, his head falling back onto the armrest defeatedly.

“I am! You’re just bad at catching them,” Newt countered. 

Suddenly, Thomas sat up and drew his legs out of where they were intertwined with Newt’s, unintentionally catching his foot on Newt’s bad shin. Newt hissed in pain and Thomas’ eyes went wide.

“Shit, Newt, I forgot. I’m so sorry, are you okay?” Thomas scrambled forwards and placed his hands over Newt’s, which were clutching his leg. Despite the pain, the contact made Newt go a little giddy.

“’S’fine, Tommy, don’t worry.” Thomas looked at Newt like he didn’t believe a word he was saying. “Honestly, it kinda hurts at this time of night anyway.”

“ _Every_ night? Seriously?” Thomas looked so genuinely concerned that it made Newt smile as he nodded. “How long has it been?”

Newt took a deep breath. They were getting into dangerous territory; Thomas knew he’d broken his leg but had always had the decency not to ask how or when. Newt and Minho’s reactions when his slight limp was brought up were enough to warn anyone off asking too many questions. Clearly, Thomas’ curiosity had finally overtaken his manners. Somehow, Newt found himself not minding.

“Three years, I think,” Newt answered, pulling back so he mirrored Thomas’ position and they faced each other crossed legged. The loss of Thomas’ hands on his own made him feel oddly cold.

“Woah,” Thomas breathed out. “And it still hurts that bad? How — I mean, how bad was it?”

“Broken in three places and fractured in two,” Newt replied automatically, forcing himself to return Thomas’ gaze. He was pleased that Thomas continued to look curious rather than pitiful.

“What happened?”

“I —”

“Wait, you don’t have to tell me. Just if you want to.”

Newt grinned despite how nervous he was feeling. “I know, Tommy. I want to. I fell out of a tree.”

“Wait, what?” Thomas was fighting off a smile, Newt could tell. He didn’t mind, somehow.

“Ridiculous, I know. But when I say I fell… I kinda — let myself.”

So there it was. Out in the open, hanging in the space between them weightily. Newt watched Thomas’ face as realisation dawned upon it.

“You let yourself?” he said quietly, all hints of a smile dropped from his face. “Were you trying to…”

“Kill myself?” Newt finished for him. He didn’t miss how Thomas flinched. He sighed heavily and began to fiddle with the cuffs of his sweatpants. “I don’t even know. I was just… fuckin’ miserable, to be honest, Tommy. So I climbed up this big oak tree in my parents’ back garden and when I started to fall, I didn’t stop myself. Guess I was just hopin’ someone would realise there was something wrong with me so I wouldn’t have to tell them myself.”

“And did they?” Thomas muttered.

“Yeah, funnily enough. Got my leg fixed up with a big metal bar through it and put me on some pills. Which is why you’re graced with my ever-so-joyful presence to this day,” Newt tried to lighten his tone again, not wanting Thomas to worry about him more than he already did. He knew Thomas had noticed his tendencies to space out and get anxious in big crowds already without any prompting whatsoever. It was this that made him want to explain his past to Thomas; it might help him understand why Newt needed a moment to compose himself sometimes. 

“Thank God for that,” Thomas replied, his own voice laced with tense humour. “I might never have read a book again if I hadn’t met you.”

Newt laughed and finally looked back up at his friend. Thomas’ eyes were watery and fixated on Newt with the same curiosity they always had been filled with. Newt was relieved.

“Please don’t treat me any different because I told ya this, Tommy. Can’t stand it when people do that.”

“Who would do that?”

“My parents, actually,” Newt admitted. “Blamed themselves for moving me over here. I told them that wasn’t it, that I had friends and all that, but they didn’t believe me. Still don’t, I think.”

“Wow, that kinda sucks.”

“Yeah,” Newt mumbled. “It kinda does. Sonya understood more than them and she was only twelve when it happened.”

“I always wanted a sister,” Thomas answered.

“I mean, you kinda do have one. With Teresa?”

“Yeah,” Thomas laughed. “Yeah, guess I do.”

They were silent for a few seconds, then Thomas leaned forwards and pulled Newt into him. Newt wrapped his arms around Thomas’ waist without hesitation.

“Thanks for telling me,” Thomas whispered.

“Thanks for listenin’,” Newt replied.

Thomas rubbed Newt’s back a couple of times before pulling away and sighing heavily.

“I should go, it’s like, one-thirty.”

“Nah, stay over. Can’t have you walking home alone in the middle of the night, Tommy.”

After a few minutes of persuasion, Thomas agreed to stay the night. Neither of them had class early, so it made sense for them both to sleep in Newt’s room so as not to be woken up by Minho going on his run at the crack of dawn. After a whispered argument that consisted of Newt promising Thomas he really didn’t care if Thomas accidentally kicked his leg again, they ended up side by side in Newt’s bed.

“You should let me sleep on the floor,” Thomas murmured.

“Don’t be stupid.”

“Newt?”

“What?”

“You promised me your pinky.”

Newt looked over at Thomas and with the moonlight streaming through his blinds, could just about make out Thomas’ mischievous grin as he held his pinky finger out above the sheets and towards Newt. He groaned and rolled his eyes.

“Wow, proper wordsmith you are, Greenie.”

“I thought we were over the “Greenie" thing!”

“Oh, I’ll never get over it, Mr. Green,” Newt said dramatically. Thomas made a fake-angry face that Newt found desperately adorable.

“Shut up and pinky promise me,” Thomas demanded.

Newt sighed once again but complied, freeing one hand from the warmth of his duvet and linking his pinky with Thomas’.

“I can’t even remember what I was promising,” Newt muttered.

“That you’re okay,” Thomas whispered. He’d turned his body slightly so he was facing Newt more, though their fingers remained interlocked. “And that you’ll tell me if you’re not.”

Newt looked at Thomas; his hair was already a mess, flopping over his forehead and spreading out over the pillow. He could hardly wait to see how bad it was in the morning. Thomas’ eyes bored into Newt and as usual, made him feel as though he wanted to give Thomas more than he already was. So, in attempt to alleviate that feeling, Newt smiled, squeezed Thomas’ finger and whispered:

“Pinky promise, Tommy. I’m okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what's up i'm super nervous about this chapt bc it's literally pure newtmas fluff and idk if it's in character? so as always pls lemme know what you think
> 
> tysm for all your kind comments and kudos so far, you're all wonderful <33333


	4. four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas does something that makes Newt freak out so much that he just has to tell Minho what's going on in his head.

Newt was woken up by a crash followed by a series of expletives. He should’ve known better than to let Thomas stay in his room.

“What the hell have you done?” he croaked, his voice still half asleep as he struggled to open his eyes.

“Sorry, sorry!” Thomas whispered. “I”m trying to get dressed but I tripped over something.”

Newt sighed and reached over to turn tug at the chord that opened his blinds. He groaned as the bright morning sunlight hit his eyes but this quickly turned into laughter at the sight before him.

Thomas was sprawled out on the floor, one leg in the wrong side of his jeans, the other hooked over the foot of Newt’s desk chair. Newt had been right to look forward to Thomas’ bedhead; it was pretty spectacular, dark strands sticking out all over the place. Thomas blushed as Newt continued to laugh at him.

“It was dark, shut up,” he groaned, getting up and quickly pulling his jeans on properly.

“I’m sorry, just — _how_ did you manage that?” Newt choked out, trying to calm himself down.

“I don’t know! I’m clumsy, okay?”

“Yeah, I worked that much out when you spilled your coffee on me the second time we met.”

If Thomas’ cheeks were flushed with embarrassment before, they were positively on fire now.

“At least it was iced coffee?” he offered sheepishly, pulling on mismatched socks. Newt rolled his eyes.

“Where you rushin’ off to, anyway? Thought it was your day off.”

“I forgot I said I’d meet Teresa for lunch. It’s only ten but I wanna get home and shower first. Sorry I woke you,” Thomas said hurriedly.

“It’s fine, it’s not exactly early,” Newt replied, still nestled into his pillow and watching Thomas in amusement. “Tell her I said hi and that I’m gonna call her later.”

Thomas’ head snapped up from where he was now sat on the floor, tying his laces. His eyebrows were furrowed.

“Call her? I didn’t know you were close.”

“Uh, I don’t know if we are, really. But we went for lunch the other day,” Newt said nervously. Thomas’ reaction was making him uneasy — until Thomas’ confused expression dissolved into one of pure joy.

“That’s so cool! My two best friends becoming best friends,” he practically shouted. Newt flinched at the sudden tone change but smiled nonetheless; he was glad Thomas didn’t ask any further questions as to how his blossoming friendship with Teresa had come about. “Now we just need her and Minho to get to know each other more and we’ll be the dream team.”

Newt snorted at that. “You are aware we all already know each other, yeah, Tommy?”

“ _Yes_ , but it’s usually just at group stuff. I’m glad you’re getting close,” Thomas said seriously, standing up from the floor and stretching. His t-shirt rose above his hips and Newt had to force his eyes up to a higher point. But then again, his flexed arms weren’t a much more appropriate distraction.

“Me too. I’ll see you soon, yeah?” he said with a smile, trying to bring himself back down to Earth.

“Definitely,” Thomas grinned. “I’ll text you later.”

With that, Thomas grabbed his bag from the floor, rushed over to where Newt still lay in bed and kissed him on the cheek before practically running out of the room.

And, yeah, maybe Thomas was a pretty affectionate guy, but _that_ was definitely new.

 

***

 

Newt was pacing up and down in the lounge when Minho got home; he could tell his roommate knew immediately that something was wrong. His eyes widened and he rushed over, pulling his earphones out as he went.

“What are you doing?” Minho asked carefully. Newt felt a sudden rush of guilt for worrying him; he was being awfully dramatic over a pretty pathetic situation, but he’d been freaking out over the cheek kiss ever since Thomas had left several hours ago.

“Panicking,” Newt stated bluntly. Minho looked terrified and so he quickly continued. “Not like, actually! But — okay, maybe I should start from the beginning. Fuck, sit down.”

Minho sat down on the sofa looking dumbfounded and Newt perched next to him, tapping his fingers against the edge.

“Dude, what is it? You’re scaring me,” Minho said, placing a hand on Newt’s back. Newt couldn’t help but laugh.

“Oh God, sorry, I’m being ridiculous. Nothing’s _wrong_ don’t worry.” They both knew the hidden connotations behind the word “wrong” when it came to Newt. Minho visibly relaxed and dropped his hand from Newt, who finally turned to look at his best friend.

“Spill,” Minho demanded.

Newt took a deep breath. “So, I’m pretty sure I’m in love with Thomas and I’m sorry I didn’t tell ya but, well, I didn’t really know _myself_ until recently but yeah. Anyway, I was trying to work out if he maybe felt the same at all but I couldn’t because he’s so damn flirty and touchy with everyone it’s really hard to tell especially when he does stuff like call me his "best friend". But he stayed over last night after you went to sleep and we shared my bed and when he left this morning he fucking _kissed_ me. On the cheek, but still. So, yeah, panicking.”

Newt expected a lot of reactions, but Minho bursting into laughter wasn’t one of them. He looked at him incredulously as he rolled about with his head thrown back.

“What the fuck, Min?” Newt whined. Minho tried to regain some composure, though his eyes were still filled with joyful tears.

“Oh man, sorry, sorry. But first of all, you’re sorry you didn’t tell me? _Dude_ , come on, you thought I didn’t know?”

“ _I_ didn’t even know! How did everyone know before me? And why did no one think to tell me?” Newt was getting a little (a lot) sick of people knowing how he felt before he, himself, did.

“I mean, we kind of did. At Teresa’s. And before that. Did you miss the millions of times we all called you lovebirds and shit like that?” Minho raised his eyebrows at Newt, who was rendered slightly speechless for a second. Hadn't those nicknames been jokes?

“I’m an idiot,” he whispered.

“No, you’re just…. guarded. Let it all in, man. You’re in love!” Minho grinned widely and Newt reached out to punch his shoulder. However, he was eternally grateful that Minho had finally stopped laughing.

“This is where you tell me Thomas has spilled all to you about how he’s painfully obsessed with me.”

Minho’s face dropped.

“Sorry, I don’t have any inside info. But Thomas is even slower than you, so he’s probably about three months behind on this whole feelings realisation thing?”

Newt groaned and let himself fall backward until he was slumped against the sofa pathetically. “Or he just doesn’t feel the same.”

“Oh, come on,” Minho drawled. “He slept in your bed and kissed you goodbye. That’s the most stereotypical lovey dovey puppy-dog shit I’ve ever heard.”

“Maybe, but —” Newt was interrupted by his own phone going off. He glanced at it and sighed when he saw the name. “Speak of the devil.”

“What did he say?” Minho asked excitedly. Newt glared at him before opening the text.

 

 

**To: Newt**

**From: Tommy**

hey are u free tonight

 

 

“He asked if I’m free tonight,” Newt mumbled, already typing a reply and ignoring Minho’s victory cheer.

 

**To: Tommy**

**From: Newt**

You literally left this morning. Can’t get enough?

 

 

“Jesus, look at you go! My Newton, all grown up and flirting with his boyfriend,” Minho swooned, reading over his shoulder. Newt pushed him away extra hard due to the use of his full name.

 

 

**To: Newt**

**From: Tommy**

maybe ;-) answer the damn question

 

**To: Tommy**

**From: Newt**

Got class 4-6 then free as a bird

 

**To: Newt**

**From: Tommy**

come straight to mine nd be my study buddy?

 

**To: Tommy**

**From: Newt**

Sure but why, do you need help?

 

 

“Don’t — oh, for fuck’s sake,” Minho whined, having stood up and gone behind the couch so he could continue watching Newt text from a safe distance.

“What?” Newt snapped.

“You shouldn’t have asked that! He clearly just wants you to go over.”

“Oh. _Oh._ Shit, d’ya think?” Newt asked, hating himself for being so inexperienced in this area. His dating history pretty much consisted of one girlfriend when he was fourteen and still in the closet followed by several drunken hookups with variously boring and average-looking guys.

“Yes, you dumb shank! He’s practically asking you on a date.”

 

 

**To: Tommy**

**From: Newt**

Doesn’t matter tell me later I’ll be there at like 6:30 with coffee and food to fuel you :-)

 

 

“Fixed?” Newt questioned tentatively, shoving his phone in Minho’s face.

“Not bad,” Minho muttered back. “Why is Teresa calling you?”

Newt jumped up and answered hurriedly.

“Hello?”

“Did Thomas text you?” Teresa asked immediately.

“What? Yeah, why?”

“Are you going to his tonight?”

“He asked me over to study, yeah. _Why?_ ”

The answer Teresa provided could only be described as a squeal. Newt held his phone away from his ear, wincing at the high-pitched sound.

“Teresa, what the hell?”

“Okay, I can’t say much but let’s just say that’s the most exciting news I’ve heard all year. Maybe ever,” she answered breathlessly.

“What’s going on? You and Minho are scaring me. He thinks it’s a date but I don’t think it’s a date and I didn’t think he liked me but he kissed me on the cheek this morning and, yeah, that’s why I was going to call you, by the way. If Thomas told you I was.”

“Yeah, he said and yeah, I figured.”

“Wait, what? You know he kissed me?”

“Maybe.”

“What the hell is going on?” Newt asked, looking at Minho desperately who responded with a face that clearly expressed that he had no idea, either. Not that he could even hear the phone call.

“Look, let’s just say he told me some things that I’m not allowed to tell you yet. And let’s also just say… I agree with Minho. It’s definitely a date.”

With that, she hung up. Newt looked at Minho with his mouth wide open.

“What the fuck just happened?” Minho asked with an incredulous laugh. “Newt, you look like you’re going to throw up.”  


“Teresa says it’s a date.”

“Well, shit.”

 

 

**To: Newt**

**From: Tommy**

dw we can order food, i have coffee. just bring whatever you need to study and your fine self x

 

 

_Well, shit,_ indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooooooo yeah. this is exciting shit
> 
> sorry for the super short chapter! i was going to include their (maybe) date in this one but decided i wanted to dedicate a whole chapter just for it ;-)))) hopefully i'll have it done soon
> 
> as always comments are much appreciated !!! much love <3
> 
> ps. ella this is for you . you're a pain in my ass for constantly asking for updates but i love it


	5. five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A date. Or not.

Naturally, Newt didn’t go to his four o’clock class. He spent the next couple of hours sat in his room with Minho, who hadn’t stopped going on about a “game plan” for the night to come.

“Will you shut up?” Newt snapped after Minho had been ranting for a solid ten minutes. “I’m not taking flowers and I’m definitely not _gelling my hair_.”

“Why not?” Minho whined.

“Because,” Newt sighed. “Date or no date, I’m just going to his. To study. It’s nothing fancy.”

Newt was making it sound a lot more simple than he felt it was. In reality, he was pretty nervous. Teresa had made it sound like this was a big deal, which seemed to mean that Thomas thought it was a big deal. There _had_ been a note of teasing in her voice when she’d told Newt it was a date, though, so he was taking that to mean she was interpreting it as a date — not that Thomas had flat out told her “hey, I’m going to ask Newt on a date”. God, he was overthinking this.

“You’re freaking out,” Minho stated simply.

“You’re freaking me out,” Newt mumbled.

Minho sighed and flopped next to him on the bed; he’d previously been rifling through Newt’s closet, apparently displeased by what he’d found there.

“You’re right, sorry. I’ve been talking about what _I’d_ do on a date, not what you should do.”

Newt nodded. “Which is?”

“Be yourself, man!” Minho grinned. “At the end of the day, it’s still just you and Thomas. He’s still your best friend even if you do both want something more. Act like it’s not a date and it’s just two buddies hanging out. If it turns out it _is_ a date, hey, it’ll be a nice surprise.”

Newt looked at Minho in shock. Every word his friend had just said made complete sense and it managed to calm him down about the whole situation. He wanted to express his gratitude but instead, all he said was, “Thought _you_ were my best friend?”

Minho rolled his eyes. “I’m starting to accept that my position might be compromised.”

“Never,” Newt promised, smirking. “We’ve just added a member to our two-man team.”

“I’ll take it.”

They looked at each other with matching grins for a few seconds until Newt checked his watch and jumped up from the bed. “Bloody hell, it’s five. I need to shower.”

“Do you want me to choose what you should wear?”

“Absolutely not.”

 

Half an hour later, Newt shuffled into Minho’s room and sheepishly asked him which of two sweaters he should wear with his usual black jeans. Minho, pretending to be annoyed, said the maroon flattered his skin tone more.

 

***

 

**To: Tommy**

**From: Newt**

On my way x

 

**To: Newt**

**From: Tommy**

u remember where it is?

 

**To: Tommy**

**From: Newt**

Near the gym, right?

 

 

Newt laughed out loud when his phone began ringing immediately.

“I’m kiddin’, Tommy! I’m outside.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Thomas muttered, hanging up quickly and buzzing him into the apartment block. This made Newt laugh even more.

He took the lift up, not wanting to aggravate his leg with three flights of stairs. As the elevator ascended, he marveled over how his nerves always seemed to disappear as soon as he heard or saw Thomas. It was like the idea of his feelings for the boy were more intimidating than the reality of them. The thought was comforting. He reminded himself of Minho’s words; _it’s still just you and Thomas_.

When he reached Thomas’ floor, the doors slid open and he made his way to Thomas’ apartment. He didn’t even have to knock before the door was flung open and he was pulled inside.

“You scared me! I thought you’d walked all the way to the other side of town,” Thomas exclaimed. 

Newt laughed and kicked his shoes off before following him further inside; it was a small studio apartment, with the bed, living area and kitchenette all being in one room. Thomas always complained about living alone, but Newt thought it seemed pretty cosy and ideal. There was no way his parents would’ve let him move halfway across the country for college if he hadn’t promised to live with Minho, though.

“D’ya think I’m that stupid, Tommy? I’m offended.”

“You’ve only been here, like, twice.”

That was true; as nice as Thomas’ apartment was, Newt and Minho’s was just so much more convenient for the three of them to hang out in. Bigger, closer to campus and town, plus Minho had the good sense to bring all of his game consoles and DVDs with them when they moved in.

“True. I brought you something.”

Newt sat down next to Thomas on his tiny couch and rifled through his bag for a few seconds, smirking at the curious expression on Thomas’ face.

“First of all, forgot to give ya these,” Newt said, piling up the Lord of The Rings books on Thomas’ coffee table. Thomas immediately grabbed the first one and flicked through it before reading the blurb enthusiastically. Newt couldn’t help but watch him with a smile.

“Woah, they’re big,” Thomas mused.

“Yeah, take your time with them. I don’t need ‘em back too soon,” Newt replied. He couldn’t stop looking at Thomas; his eyes were wide with excitement and awe. Newt had never found him more endearing.

“Second of all?” Thomas prompted, looking up at Newt. Newt furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, having just been snapped out of his daze. Thomas seemed to sense that Newt had been watching him; his cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “You said ‘first of all’, so I presume there’s a ‘second of all’?”

“Oh! Yeah, right,” Newt said, cursing his own stupidity. “Second of all…”

He pulled the DVD out of his bag dramatically and held it up in front of Thomas’ face.

“ _The Hobbit: An Unexpected_ — wait, there’s a _movie_?”

Newt laughed, rolling his eyes. “You didn’t know? There’s three, actually. Have you been living under a rock?”

“Apparently,” Thomas said, taking the movie from Newt and inspecting it. “Actually, I do recognise it. I just never paid attention to it before.”

“But you’re such a _nerd_. How did you miss this?”

Thomas shoved him gently. “Fuck you. Guess I was more of a _Star Wars_ kid.”

“You’re allowed to like more than one thing, Tommy.”

“Shut up. Can we watch this?”

“Yeah, that’s the general idea of a film.” Newt fought off a laugh at Thomas’ exasperated expression. He was just too easy to make fun of. “I thought we could watch it after we study?”

Thomas groaned. “I forgot about studying.”

“Isn’t that the whole reason you asked me over?” Newt laughed, hoping with every fibre of his being that Thomas would tell him it wasn’t.

“Uh, yeah,” Thomas mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. “I have a Bio test next week and I find it way easier to concentrate with someone else here. Hope you don’t mind.”

Newt scoffed. “Obviously not, or I wouldn’t have come.” Thomas’ smile sent a wave of warmth through Newt’s veins. “I brought my portfolio. Need to finish a few sketches.”

“Cool,” Thomas exclaimed, bounding up from the sofa and over to the breakfast bar that served as the only desk in the room. His notes and science textbooks were already spread out over it. Newt took his sketchbook and drawing equipment from his bag before following Thomas’ lead and hopping up onto the stool opposite him. He briefly looked over Thomas’ work and felt overwhelmed just at the sight.

“Bloody hell, Tommy,” Newt mumbled. “How do you do it?”

Thomas followed Newt’s line of sight and chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not so bad. I enjoy it, at least.”

“Like I said. Nerd.”

“Leave me alone.”

Thomas made them both drinks before settling down properly and preparing to go through his notes. Newt flicked through his Spotify, trying to choose an appropriate playlist for them to work to.

“I made this one of music that’s good for writing to? That work?”

“Yeah, whatever you like,” Thomas replied. A look of surprised comprehension crossed over his features. “You write?”

Newt nodded. “Sometimes. Mostly poetry stuff to go along with my art. I’m thinking of doing something like that for my final project.”

“That sounds so cool,” Thomas said lowly. He looked impressed; Newt shrugged. It really wasn’t that big of a deal to him — just an idea he’d been playing with. “Can you show me sometime?”

Newt felt anxious just at the thought of showing Thomas his writing. He was pretty comfortable sharing his art most of the time, but he felt there was something much more personal about his poems and occasional short stories. He swallowed down his fears and nodded. 

“Yeah, sure. Don’t get your hopes up, though. It’s really nothing special.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Thomas said seriously. “Everything you make is special.”

Newt blushed and muttered an awkward thanks. He nearly missed the fact that Thomas’ cheeks were as red as his own. Thinking Thomas must be uncomfortable over his self-deprecation, Newt pressed play on his music and got down to work.

 

Almost an hour passed in near-silence other than the occasional “how’s it going?” from Newt or “I want to drop out” from Thomas. Newt tried his best to keep his eyes fixed firmly on the page but he couldn’t help but glance up at Thomas once in a while. A couple of times, Thomas had been staring right back. Newt raised his eyebrows with a smirk when this happened; Thomas just grinned nervously and returned his gaze to his books. 

“I didn’t know you wore glasses,” Newt said at one point. He’d nearly choked when Thomas had first put them on; he looked undeniably hot in them. He forced himself to wait to bring up the new addition so as to seem more casual about it.

“Only when I’m reading, really,” Thomas muttered back, face turning red. “They look ridiculous.”

“Nah, they look great. Really suit you,” Newt replied without thinking. The smile Thomas gave him was worth any potential embarrassment, though.

“Thanks,” Thomas said. Newt could’ve sworn his cheeks turned a shade or two darker. “Uh, d’ya wanna order food now?”

“Sure. What do you want?”

“Pizza.”

“Obviously,” Newt rolled his eyes. “Stupid question.”

Newt stayed put whilst Thomas wandered over to the couch where he’d left his phone and called the pizza place.

He took the few minutes without Thomas sat opposite him to reflect. As much as he was enjoying the night, it didn’t feel like a _date_. It felt like two friends studying together, comfortable in each other’s presence. But maybe that’s all it needed to be, Newt mused. Because something did feel different; Newt tried to pretend he didn’t see it so as not to get his hopes up, but Thomas was definitely a little more jittery and bashful than usual; he’d blushed more times than Newt could count. Newt wasn’t really sure what to do about this development because, at the end of the day, it could mean nothing at all.

“I want to finish this page then we can watch the film? The food should arrive around then,” Thomas said, catching Newt’s attention once again. He’d previously been staring at his sketchbook without actually seeing what was drawn there.

“Yeah, sounds good,” he answered slowly. Thomas came up behind Newt and peered over his shoulder.

“Holy shit,” Thomas breathed out. Newt let out an involuntary shiver as Thomas’ breath hit the back of his neck. He turned around to see Thomas staring at the page Newt held before him. His eyes were full of wonder. “That’s amazing, Newt.”

It was just a simple sketch in Newt’s opinion; a bird’s-eye view of a maze, the centre being a square space full of delicate flowers. Sure, the patterns the maze’s walls made were pretty intricate, plus he'd spent a long time making the flowers detailed and realistic, but it was nothing special. Or so he thought.

“Really? You like it?”

Thomas met Newt’s gaze with ferocious sincerity. “ _Like_ it? Dude, it’s incredible. I love it.”

“Thanks, Tommy,” Newt said quietly. He didn’t tend to believe his art was anything more than average, but the way Thomas’ genuine tone made him feel provided a pretty good start to believing in himself for once.

Thomas sat back down on his stool and picked up where he left off as if what he’d said to Newt hadn’t completely changed the atmosphere. Newt stared at Thomas for a solid minute before he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. He had to know what this _was_ ; what Teresa had meant, what Thomas had told her. He had to know everything.

“Tommy?” he said, voice surprisingly even.

“Hm?” Thomas didn’t look up.

“Uh, Teresa called me earlier.” That made Thomas raise his head.

“Oh yeah?” Thomas mumbled, dropping his pen. Newt thought he saw him suck in a breath. Suddenly, looking into Thomas’ eyes, he lost his confidence again. What should he even say? Should he straight up _ask_ if Thomas had intended this to be a date? Or should he be more casual? He decided for the latter; if there was anything Newt was good at, it was teasing Thomas. So that was probably the safest route to go down.

“Yeah,” he said, smirking. “She seems to think that this — tonight — was a _date_. As did Minho, actually.”

Newt was definitely not mistaking Thomas’ nervousness now. The dark-haired boy swallowed, rubbing his palms together. Newt laughed at the reaction.

“Really?”

“Really. Any idea why that is?”

Newt’s heart dropped a little when Thomas laughed; it was a curt and insincere sound that made his blood run slightly cold. Something in his expression changed, too. The wide-eyed shock that appeared after Newt’s initial statement was replaced by a tension he had barely ever seen in his friend. Had he really been that far off? Was Thomas completely disgusted at the idea of being on a date with Newt?

“Nope,” Thomas quipped. Newt could practically feel his bubble of happiness bursting. “She was probably just trying to annoy us, ignore her. She’s crazy, sometimes.”

“Oh,” Newt said flatly. He managed to produce a fake laugh. “Fair enough.”

At that point, a knock on the door echoed through the apartment. Both boys stood up, but Thomas was the first to speak.

“I’ll get it.”

Newt watched numbly as Thomas paid the delivery guy and accepted their pizzas. He managed to compose himself just as his friend turned around. He plastered a grin on his face, ignoring the painful pace at which his heart was beating.

“You ready to go to Middle-Earth?”

“Hell yeah.”

 

Newt felt like he was holding his breath for the rest of the evening. He managed to let his mind go blank and vaguely enjoy Thomas’ excitement over the movie, but it was as though he was watching the events from very far away. He felt empty and awkward and cursed himself several times for suggesting they watch the movie when it was so bloody long. Thomas didn’t pick up on his discomfort, though, and it was with relief that Newt left almost as soon as they finished the film. He ignored the sinking feeling that took hold of him when Thomas didn't protest.

He walked home hurriedly and crashed into his apartment. Minho was sat on the sofa and looked up excitedly; his expression fell as soon as he saw Newt.

“I don’t wanna talk about it tonight,” Newt said blankly.

“Okay,” Minho replied. "Tomorrow?" Newt nodded curtly and went straight into his bedroom, locking the door.

Newt fell asleep hours later with tears of embarrassment and disappointment dried onto his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry ?????
> 
> next chapter will make up for it i promise ;-)
> 
> <3


	6. six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the failed date; Newt's trying not to think about what happened and get on with life. Easier said than done.

Newt stared at himself in the bathroom mirror. His eyes were red and puffy with dark bags under them. His hair stuck up in every direction, no matter how much he tried to smooth it down. He knew he looked pitiful, which was why he hesitated when he heard Minho calling his name.

“Just a minute,” he shouted back, voice hoarse. He washed his face for the fifth time and ran damp hands through his messy hair. Not that it helped much.

Newt exited his bathroom and found Minho ready and waiting on the edge of his bed. His arms were crossed and he looked determined, yet worried. Newt rolled his eyes.

“You couldn’t wait five bloody minutes?”

“Nope. I waited all night. Spill.”

Newt sighed and flopped onto his desk chair, pulling the sleeves of his hoodie down over his hands and crossing his arms; an obvious defensive gesture, he knew, but he didn’t care.

“It was all goin’ great, Tommy was acting a little weird. But like, a good weird that made me think he liked me, y’know?”

Minho nodded. “What was he doing?”

“Uh, like… getting all nervous when I complimented him. Eye contact. That kinda thing.” Newt was cringing at his own words. He was fairly certain that he’d spoken more about his feelings in this past week than he had in the past year. It didn’t feel natural for him, even when it was with Minho.

“Textbook ‘I have a crush on you’ stuff,” Minho said matter-of-factly. Newt held up his hands so as to warn Minho not to get ahead of himself.

“That’s what I thought. So… that went on for a while and I couldn’t hold it in anymore. Decided to go for it.”

Minho raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Wow, I’m impressed.”

“Don’t be. I told him you and Teresa had said that this seemed like a date. He went all weird — like, _not_ good weird — and said that she was crazy and probably taking the piss.”

“Oh,” Minho said, looking crestfallen.

“Yep.”

“Wait, what the fuck? He was throwing you signals all night then freaked out when you tried to make a move?”

“Pretty much.”

Minho stared at him for a few moments before narrowing his eyes suspiciously. “What did you do?”

“What? Nothing, what do you mean?”

“How did you word it?”

“Fuck, Minho, I don’t bloody know. Flirty, I guess? Kind of teasing him.”

Newt checked his phone whilst Minho considered his words. He sighed when he saw he had a text from Teresa.

 

 

**To: Newt**

**From: Teresa**

Sooooo? How was it? Tom won’t reply to me, probably still sleeping :( x

 

**To: Teresa**

**From: Newt**

Fine, but you were wrong. It wasn’t a date. He doesn’t like me that way

 

 

Newt knew none of this was in any way Teresa’s fault, but he felt angry at her nonetheless. He wished she hadn’t told him anything to get his hopes up. It made the rejection all the more painful. Newt almost laughed to himself as he thought this; he hadn’t even _been_ rejected, really. It wasn’t like he’d confessed his undying love to Thomas, or anything. But it sure felt like it.

“Is that him?” Minho asked.

“No, Teresa. Asking how it went.”

“Dude, I’m so confused. Are you sure you didn’t, like — I don’t know. Do anything to make him think you didn’t _want_ it to be a date?”

Spinning in his chair, Newt thought about this for a second. He hadn’t really thought about that.

“I kind of laughed about it, but more in a nervous way?”

“It might’ve not come across like that, though.”

Newt’s phone buzzed again.

 

 

**To: Newt**

**From: Teresa**

Well that doesn't sound right. What did that idiot do? Xx

 

 

Newt snorted a laugh and showed Minho the text, who smirked approvingly.

“I like her,” he said.

“Me too,” Newt said begrudgingly. Once again he reminded himself that this really wasn’t Teresa’s fault. He forced himself to type a nice reply.

 

 

**To: Teresa**

**From: Newt**

Haha. Are you going to Gally’s tomorrow? I’ll tell you everything then

 

**To: Newt**

**From: Teresa**

Yeah I am, okay sounds good. It’ll all be okay x

 

**To: Teresa**

**From: Newt**

I know. Thanks :-) x

 

 

“I told her I’ll tell her tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Minho asked, head tilted.

“Gally’s having a party, remember?”

“Oh shit, yeah. You’re still gonna go?”

Newt rolled his eyes. “Can’t avoid him forever. I'd rather go and act like everything's normal, to be honest.”

Minho nodded, seemingly pleased with this response. Newt checked the time and sighed; he had class in forty-five minutes and was yet to shower or eat. When he relayed this thought to Minho, his friend stood up from the bed and walked over to pat him on the shoulder.

“You shower, I’ll make pancakes,” Minho said heartily. Newt grinned appreciatively.

“Don’t burn the place down.”

“I won’t,” Minho promised. He walked to the door and turned back just before he exited. “Newt?”

“Yeah?” Newt replied warily, preparing himself for one of Minho’s pep talks.

“You know Thomas. He’s super sweet but also pretty damn dumb. I’d bet a lot of money that he just freaked out, thinking that _you_ don’t like _him_. You might have to just bite the bullet and make the first move.”

“That’s what I was tryin’ to do,” Newt mumbled.

“I know. But next time, don’t leave anything unanswered. Just _tell_ him. Or ask him. Or kiss him. Whatever works.”

“Thanks, Min.” Newt hoped Minho knew he meant that, despite his sarcastic tone. “Bloody inspiring.”

“Oh, I know.”

 

***

 

The rest of the day dragged. Newt tried to act like he wasn’t feeling pretty much heartbroken, but it was tough. The small glimmer of hope that Minho had given him diminished more and more as he played over the previous night in his mind. He tried to focus on his lectures but it was to no avail.

He arrived home that evening in an impossibly bad mood and shoved a frozen meal in the microwave. Minho was still at a track meet — _with Tommy_ ** _,_** his brain reminded itself. Once his food was read, he tried to distract himself with trashy TV shows. It worked better than he’d expected, though he still felt hollow even after he’d eaten.

Minho arrived home and they chatted for a bit, avoiding the subject of Thomas. Newt felt a wave of gratitude towards his roommate. He’d given him less credit than he deserved for being able to sense his mood. He felt guilty for ever doubting him.

Newt said goodnight fairly early, wanting to get a good night’s sleep if he were to maintain a good semblance of enjoyment at Gally's the next evening. With a jolt, he realised that Teresa’s party — the place he’d noticed his growing feelings for Thomas — would be exactly a week ago the following night. He’d have to get twice more drunk than he'd already had planned to be.

He drifted off into a fitful and anxious sleep.

 

A sleep that was, once again, interrupted by a late night phone call from the one person he was desperately trying not to dream about.

“Tommy?”

“Newt!” Thomas shouted. Newt groaned internally. He’d only said one word, but it was slurred. The boy was definitely drunk.

“What’s goin’ on?” he muttered sleepily.

“‘M sorry, Newt, fuck. But it’s three AM and I’m alone and lost and you’re the only — _hic_ — person I know who has a car?”

“Why are you hammered on a Thursday night? Who were you with?” Newt asked, already pulling on clothes whilst simultaneously looking for his car keys. He hadn’t needed them for a while; everything and everyone were so close to Newt’s apartment that he rarely drove.

“Track guys took me out for drinks. Said I needed to get over it.”

_Get over what?_ Newt was desperate to ask. Instead, he ran a hand over his face in an attempt to wake himself up and said: “D’ya think you can send me your location? I’ll leave right now.”

“I’ll try. _Fuck_ , Newt I’m so sorry.” His voice became more muffled and Newt presumed he was putting him on speaker phone so he could send him his location. “I don’t know what happened, I wandered off for a bit and then couldn’t find anyone again. Someone drove us here and I don’t know where _here_ is. Did that work? Did you get it?”

Newt hummed noncommittally and checked his messages. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Okay, I know where you are. I’ll be ten minutes.”

“Thank you, thank you so much,” Thomas muttered. Newt could envision him leaning against a wall, eyes half closed. He stayed on the phone to him, talking nonsense as he ran out of his apartment and into his car. He didn’t want Thomas to fall asleep or anything.

“Okay, I’m leaving now. Gotta go.”

“See y’soon.”

Newt drove fast; the roads were practically empty. He pulled onto the street that Thomas was on and spotted him almost immediately. He was outside a bar, sat on the edge of the sidewalk with his legs pulled up to his chest. Newt couldn’t help but laugh. He pulled up beside him and got out. Thomas still didn’t notice him; his head was hanging down so that his chin hit his chest.

“Tommy, c’mon. Get up,” Newt said softly, putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder. Thomas looked up, bleary-eyed and smiling weakly.

“You came,” he whispered.

“What, did ya think I was lying?” Newt scoffed, taking Thomas’ outstretched arm and pulling him to his feet. Thomas shrugged and staggered around the car, flopping into the passenger seat. Newt was pleased to see he could stand upright. Plus, he was talking coherently. He wasn’t _completely_ trashed.

They drove in relative silence for a few minutes. Newt tapped his fingers against the wheel nervously.

“I’m sorry,” Thomas said.

“I know. It’s fine, Tommy. I’m was hardly gonna leave you out here all —”

“Not for that.”

“Oh?”

“Can you pull over?” Thomas asked. Newt’s heart pounded in his chest. He looked over at Thomas and was met with a serious, pleading expression. Newt nodded and turned his attention back to the road, driving for a couple more minutes before finding somewhere safe to pull in. They were by a park that was nearby Thomas’ house.

“What’s goin’ on?” Newt questioned carefully, turning to look at Thomas once again. His gaze wasn’t returned though; Thomas immediately opened the door and got out of the car. Newt followed and walked around to the other side. They leaned up against it, side by side, arms brushing against each other. Thomas swayed dangerously for a second before seeming to regain his balance.

“You know I like boys, right? As well as girls?” Thomas said suddenly. Newt was a little taken aback.

“Uh, yeah. I gathered.”

“I’m sorry,” Thomas said after a few long moments of silence.

“Wait, _that’s_ why you’re sorry? Because you’re bi?”

“No,” Thomas laughed. “I was just checking you knew. I’m sorry for last night.”

Newt took a deep breath. “Why?” he whispered.

“Because… when you asked why Teresa thought we were on a date, I should’ve said it was because we were. And then I should’ve done _this_.”

Newt barely had time to prepare himself before Thomas’ lips were on his own.

It was messy; Thomas crashed into Newt, pressing him up against the car. Newt took a few seconds too long to react and felt Thomas begin to pull away in defeat. Letting out a soft “ _no_ ” against Thomas’ mouth, he pulled him back in by his jacket.

Thomas weaved his hands through Newt’s hair and tugged his head even closer as their lips moved together desperately. Almost every inch of their bodies were touching. Newt didn’t think that it was possible to feel as elated as he did in that moment. He couldn’t even believe this was happening; he ran his hands over Thomas’ chest, shoulder and neck, trying to ground himself. When Thomas slipped his tongue into his mouth, he nearly lost himself in it completely — but the taste of vodka that overwhelmed his senses brought him back down to earth for a second.

“Thomas, wait,” he whispered. “Stop.”

Thomas pulled back and leaned his forehead on Newt’s shoulder defeatedly.

“I was waiting for that.”

“No! _No_ , believe me, I don’t _want_ to stop. But you’re drunk. We shouldn’t…”

“Shouldn’t what?” Thomas teased, looking up at him again, eyes filled with hope. Newt scoffed.

“Get carried away.”

Thomas nodded, clearly annoyed but understanding. Newt could feel his skin burning up as he looked over the boy’s face; Thomas’ cheeks and lips were tinted pink, his eyes wide and watery. They were still stood mere inches apart. Newt could’ve counted every mole on Thomas’ face if he wanted to. Which he absolutely did... amongst other things.

“Do you want this?” Thomas whispered. Newt knew the subtext behind it: _do you want me?_

“Yes,” Newt said bravely. “Do you?”

Thomas nodded eagerly. He was tracing his fingers over Newt’s face in apparent disbelief. Newt let his hands drop to Thomas’ waist. “Yesterday…”

“It was my fault, wasn’t it? You thought I was laughing at the idea of us dating?” Newt said gently.

“I didn’t, not really. That was just my excuse. I chickened out.”

Newt let out a sigh of relief. “No, I should’ve just _asked_. I can’t — fuck, I’m so bad at being serious.”

“I like that,” Thomas promised. Newt raised his eyebrows and Thomas laughed before continuing. “Usually. Teresa called me earlier and told me that whatever I’d done, I was an idiot.”

Newt snickered. “Minho kind of did the same.”

“We’re so stupid,” Thomas whispered.

“Yeah.”

Thomas leaned in to kiss him again and Newt allowed it, but only for a moment before he pushed him away.

“Seriously, Tommy. I want to wait until I’m sure you’re sure.” Newt opened the passenger door for him before jogging to the driver’s side and sliding into his seat. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Thomas followed, appearing at the door and opening it milliseconds after Newt had slammed it shut.

Thomas perched himself on Newt’s lap and held his face still as he kissed him. Newt smiled into it and returned Thomas’ enthusiasm for a few minutes before shoving at his shoulder. He gave him a stern look which Thomas met with a smile.

“I’m really fucking sure,” Thomas murmured against Newt’s lips, pecking them once more. Newt let his head hit the back of his seat and groaned.

“Stop making things difficult. I mean it; I need you to be sure. And by sure I mean _sober_.”

Thomas laughed and slipped off of Newt’s lap, clambering across the partition between the two seats. Seconds later, he was settled in, grinning wildly.

"You're scaring me," Newt joked.

"I'm just really damn happy. I've wanted this since... like, since we first met. Pretty much."

Newt allowed this to increase his joy for a few moments before pushing it back down. "Me too. But let's not talk about it now, okay? Tomorrow. I promise."

"Pinky?" Thomas smirked. Newt rolled his eyes and linked his finger with Thomas'. He didn't let go after, allowing Thomas to hold on to him and pull his hand into his lap. "Newt, I know I'm drunk. But trust me, nothing's gonna be different in the morning."

Newt nodded and smiled, still not letting himself believe it completely. But he kept his hand on Thomas’ knee for the rest of the journey to Thomas’ apartment. He meant it to be a reassuring gesture, but he didn’t miss the way it made Thomas flinch whenever he ran a thumb over his jeans. Newt tried to suppress his smirk.

“Text me in the morning if you haven't changed your mind. And if you have, actually. Either way, text me,” Newt rambled as Thomas got out of the car.

Thomas ran round to Newt’s side once again, making the blonde boy laugh as he tripped over his own feet. And again, Newt’s door was flung open.

“Stop being ridiculous," Thomas said. Newt got up and out of the car with a sigh and accepted Thomas’ hug. "Miss you already,” Thomas joked — at least, Newt thought it was a joke. Newt buried his face into Thomas’ neck, only just managing to resist the urge to place kisses there. Thomas had no such restraint; he pressed one kiss to Newt’s cheek and one to his lips before thanking him again for coming to get him. Newt laughed; he’d completely forgotten why he was out of bed at three AM in the first place.

“Night, Tommy.”

“Night, Newt.”

Newt watched Thomas until he was safely in his building, then drove home; he didn’t even bother to try and fight the grin off of his face, even as he fell into bed. It became even wider when he checked his phone before going back to sleep.

 

 

**To: Newt**

**From: Tommy**

fuck i actually do miss you already

 

 

**To: Tommy**

**From: Newt**

Go to sleep, loser

 

**To: Tommy**

**From: Newt**

I miss you more

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
> 
> hope this makes up for the sad ending of yesterday's chapter
> 
> i know there's not too much fluff/relationship establishment here but it's bc of drunk tommy and newt not wanting to get his hopes up so it's kinda short i guess?? i hope it's still satisfying yikes
> 
> much luv


	7. seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "All in?"  
> "Yeah. All in."

**To: Newt**

**From: Tommy**

what time do you have class? x

 

 

Newt rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he squinted at his phone. His heart skipped a beat each time he reread it. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting when he’d asked Thomas to text him in the morning, but a question so simple and innocent definitely wasn’t it.

 

 

**To: Tommy**

**From: Newt**

1\. Why? 

 

**To: Newt**

**From: Tommy**

i’ll be over at 11 x

 

**To: Tommy**

**From: Newt**

Should I prepare myself for the worst? ;-)

 

 

_Wow,_ Newt thought to himself, rolling out of bed and stumbling into the shower. _Really subtle. Way to pretend you’re not completely terrified._

As it turned out, he had no reason to be — proven by the text that was waiting for him when he left the bathroom.

 

 

**To: Newt**

**From: Tommy**

no you should prepare yourself to let me kiss you all over ur stupid face

 

 

Newt laughed out loud and turned bright red. Unfortunately, this was the moment Minho chose to walk into his room without knocking.

“Minho, I’m naked!” he exclaimed.

“You’re wearing a towel.”

“Under which I am very much naked.”

“I’ve seen it all before.”

Newt rolled his eyes and grabbed some clothes before slipping into the bathroom to quickly change. He came back out moments later to a very stern-looking Minho.

“May I help you?” Newt asked sarcastically.

“Why did you get in at, like, four in the morning last night?” Minho snapped. Newt couldn’t help but laugh. He knew why Minho was worried; there’d been several incidents in which Newt had gone out alone at night, none of them being when he was in a good mental state. He was so relieved to finally have a positive story to respond to his friend with.

“Guess,” Newt said with a smirk, hoping to convey that Minho _really_ didn’t have to worry. Minho seemed to get it; his eyes lit up and his stance noticeably relaxed.

“What happened?” he asked enthusiastically.

“Okay, sit down. Tommy’s coming over in half an hour.”

Minho sat uncharacteristically quietly as Newt relayed the whole story to him. His eyes and smile widened at the right moments, but he let Newt talk without any verbal interruption. In fact, he didn’t speak a word until Newt finished with:

“So, yeah. Guess he did actually mean it, because he text me saying… well, I don't wanna tell ya. But he’ll be here pretty soon. Fuck, I’m nervous.”

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“I’ll steal your phone.”

“Don’t.”

“Was it sexual?” Minho whined. “Do I need to leave the apartment?”

“No!” Newt exclaimed with an incredulous laugh before pretending to reconsider, hoping to gross Minho out a little at the thought of his two best friends doing it. “At least, I don’t think so…”

“Jesus, it’s been a long time coming. I’d be disappointed if it _wasn’t_.”

Newt thew a pillow at Minho before standing up and starting to pace up and down. He hadn’t actually given himself a minute to consider what _was_ going to happen when Thomas arrived. He’d taken Thomas’ text as a joke, but his suggestion was certainly a possibility. Talking seemed likely — and necessary, Newt had _questions_ — too. Oh God, realistically, they were going to have _the_ talk, weren’t they? Newt was bad (capital ‘B’ bad) at relationship talks. At relationships in general, really.

“You’re doing it again,” Minho said in a mocking, singsong voice.

“Doing what?” Newt snapped, knowing full well what the answer would be.

“Overthinking. He likes you, you like him, you kissed. What’s the problem?”

“It’s just… dammit. Do I have to ask him to be my bloody _boyfriend_ now, or is that kind of already established?”

Minho laughed. “I think the fact you picked him up in the middle of the night then made out against your car does all the talking, no?”

“Yeah, no. You’re right,” Newt sighed. “Also…”

“Go on,” Minho teased.

“What if things _don’t_ work out. Not today, like, in the long run. I don’t want to lose him.”

That wiped the smile off of Minho’s face pretty effectively.

“Oh, man,” he grimaced. “That’s, uh, a tough one. I think you need to talk to him about that. But in my opinion, you guys are too tight to let that ever happen.”

“Maybe. Hopefully. No, you’re right. _I_ definitely wouldn’t let it.”

“That’s my boy!” Minho stood up and clapped a hand onto Newt’s back enthusiastically, nearly knocking the air out of his lungs. Newt hated that Minho forgot his own strength sometimes. Not that that seemed at all important as soon as he heard a knock on the door.

Newt rushed into the living room with Minho hot on his feet.

“Don’t be weird,” Newt hissed at him, turning around to push him backward. Minho wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and Newt pointed a warning finger at him.

“I just wanna watch what happens,” Minho whispered.

“That’s _weird_ ,” Newt insisted.

“Not like _that_ , just when he first comes in! Then I’ll go, I swear.”

Newt wanted to protest some more and order Minho to piss off, but Thomas knocked again and, well, he could hardly wait another second to see him.

So he opened the door and felt his heart jump to his throat at the sight before him.

Thomas held a bunch of sunflowers up to his chest, looking equally excited, nervous and embarrassed. Newt was fairly sure his expression was much of the same.

“Hey,” he breathed out.

“Hi,” Thomas replied. Newt stepped aside to let him in. He shuffled forwards, eyes darting around every inch of Newt’s face. Newt couldn’t help but grin.

“Morning, Tom-Tom,” Minho called out. Thomas jumped a little at this; he clearly hadn’t noticed that they weren’t alone.

“Uh, hey. Hey, Min,” Thomas spluttered. He dropped the flowers an inch or two and looked between the two roommates, clearly panicking. Newt pressed his lips together to suppress a laugh;as much as he wanted Minho out of the way as soon as possible, this reaction from Thomas was definitely worth a few seconds delay from being alone with him.

“Those for me?” Minho continued, gesturing to the bouquet. “You shouldn’t have. Although, I’m more of a roses guy.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Newt said with a laugh. He couldn’t let it go on any longer; poor Thomas clearly had no idea how to react. Newt walked towards Minho and grabbed his arm, pulling him into his room. “Get in there.”

“Ow!” Minho complained, though Newt clearly wasn’t hurting him. “Fine, fine. I’ve got class soon, anyway. Which means I’m leaving this room again, therefore you can’t start going at it in the middle of the—”

Newt shut the door on him, effectively cutting him off; however, for a few seconds he could still hear cackling laughter from behind the door.

“You couldn’t have kicked him out?” Thomas said quietly. Newt turned around and was relieved to find him smiling, though his face was still flushed with embarrassment.

“Didn’t want to give him too much ammunition to embarrass us at the party tonight,” Newt said with a smirk. He took a few slow steps towards Thomas, who did the same until they were stood face to face with only a few inches space between them. “But I guess that’s out of the window.”

“Mhmmm,” Thomas hummed. He held up the flowers; Newt took them, his fingers brushing Thomas’ gently.

“What’re these for?”

“Everything,” Thomas murmured. He took a deep breath. “Firstly, because I’m sorry I made you pick me up when I was drunk.”

“You know I don’t care—”

“Secondly,” Thomas cut in. He closed his eyes for a brief second and Newt shut up; he got the feeling Thomas had things he needed to get off of his chest without interruption, else he’d lose his nerve. “For throwing myself at you when I was drunk. I get why you wanted to wait. It wasn’t cool, I shouldn’t have put that pressure on you.”

Newt simply nodded. He felt as though the air around him was slowly growing thicker and warmer as Thomas continued to talk. They were getting close to what Thomas really wanted to say, he could feel it. He’d never felt such apprehension for a moment in his life. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Thomas’ face if he wanted to.

“Uh, lastly — even though there’s literally seven million things I wanna say but I don’t think I can wait much longer to kiss you — because I _like_ you, Newt. In case it wasn’t clear.”

There it was, then. Physical, tangible, floating in the space between them and waiting for one of them to do something with it. Newt recognised that Thomas had struggled to get those words out, and he’d never been a great talker, himself, so he decided there was only one thing for it.

He kissed him. It was softer than the night before; gentle, loving, meaningful. Thomas sighed into it and raised his hands to Newt’s hips, softly tracing his thumbs in circles over his shirt. Newt, still holding the bouquet of sunflowers, simply placed his palm against Thomas’ cheek. It didn’t last too long before they both pulled away to breathe, foreheads leaning against each other.

“Say it, then,” Thomas muttered. Newt huffed out a laugh.

“I like you too. Obviously, you bloody idiot.”

“Hey, don’t insult me when I just poured my heart out to you!”

“You make it too easy.” Newt pulled back a bit more, leaving his hand on Thomas’ face, and looked at him properly. His friend, his Tommy, his — “So… is this — I mean, are we…?”

“All in?” Thomas finished for him.

“Yeah,” Newt laughed breathlessly. “All in.”

“I am if you are.”

“I am if _you_ are.”

“I am,” Thomas confirmed.

“Me too.”

“Yeah?” The uncertainty in Thomas’ tone made Newt feel a little safer. Because suddenly he was one hundred percent sure that he wasn’t alone in this; Thomas was scared too. This was new to them both. But they were in it together.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

“You said that already.”

“So did you.”

They burst into laughter and suddenly everything felt familiar once more. Then again, it hadn’t ever really felt too different. Kissing Thomas, _being with_ Thomas, didn’t actually make Newt feel awkward or nervous in reality. It felt normal, like they should’ve been doing this all along. They probably should’ve.

“I like these,” Newt said, looking down at the sunflowers. ‘Like’ was an understatement. They were his favourite. Newt wondered if somehow Thomas had known that. “Thank you.”

“Welcome,” Thomas replied, looking bashful once more. “I noticed they were a big feature in your drawing. The one with the maze? Took a guess that they might be your favourite.”

That answered that, then. Newt thought he couldn’t like ( _love_ was the word his brain kept providing him with but he decided to push it down for now, even if it had slipped out of him when he confessed to Minho) the boy in front of him even more, but Thomas was constantly proving him wrong.

“They are. Very observant. Borderline creepy, to be honest, Tommy.”

“Shut up.”

“Obsessed with me or something?”

“Shut _up_.”

Newt laughed and kissed him again, only a lingering peck of reassurance, but enough to make his brain go fuzzy once again. Then he wandered into the kitchen, holding up the flowers as an explanation. He returned moments later with a jar full of water to place them in. He positioned them on the coffee table, standing back to admire them when he was done.

Thomas came up next to him and tentatively slipped an arm around Newt’s waist, consequentially sending his heart into overdrive. He slid his hand up Thomas’ back until it rested gently at the base of his neck.

“So,” Thomas said.

“So?”

“What do you want to—”

Minho’s door crashed open and he stood there looking suspiciously innocent. Thomas and Newt jumped apart.

“What the fuck,” Newt said, laughing incredulously. “Wanna be any louder?”

“I did it on purpose,” Minho replied matter-of-factly. “In case you two were sucking face. Or sucking anything.”

“Jesus Christ,” Thomas muttered under his breath.

“So?” Minho walked forwards until he was stood in front of them expectantly. “Is it official? You two gonna stop whining about each other like babies?”

“Wow,” Newt drawled. “You’re insufferable. But yes, for your information.”

Newt glanced at Thomas and saw him light up a little bit at confirmation of their relationship status. He didn’t see any reason not to tell Minho there and then; he’d probably been listening in, anyway.

“Praise the lord,” Minho grinned. He pulled them both in for a hug, making Newt groan impatiently. When he moved back, Minho gripped Thomas by both shoulders and gave him a death glare. “Listen, Thomas, I love ya. You’re my friend, but I’ve known this miserable fucker much longer and I would kill for him. Hurt him and I’ll hurt you.”

“ _Minho!_ ”

“It’s alright, Newt. I Imagine you’ll be getting the same speech from Teresa tonight. Don’t worry, Min, I don’t plan on it.”

“Awesome,” Minho said, fake-anger giving way to a wide smirk. He backed towards the front door, opening it and stumbling out into the hallway. “I’ll be off, then. See ya tonight, lovers. Have fun, use protection and don’t be too loud, the neighbours—”

This time it was Thomas who shut the door on him. Newt raised his eyebrows in approval.

“I learned from the best,” Thomas stated.

 

They spent an hour sat on the couch, talking quietly about regular things, laughing together, occasionally kissing. Thomas kept pulling away every time either of them got too caught up in that, though; Newt would've been more than happy for things to become heated, he recognised that Thomas was embarrassed by how forward he'd been last night and wanted to slow things down for a moment. He was fine with that, too. 

Newt relished in his own relief at the _normality_ it. It was like he’d been holding his breath for this past week and could finally exhale. He wished he didn’t have class, or that he could skip it, but unfortunately he had a meeting with his tutor that he couldn’t really miss.

“Tommy, I have to leave in a minute,” Newt groaned. Thomas currently had his head in Newt’s lap and looked up at him with a pout.

“I’ll walk you?” he offered. Newt’s initial instinct was to politely decline but he quickly realised that would be weird. Walking to class together was what couples _did_. It wasn’t for a favour or out of pity; Thomas _wanted_ to. So he nodded with a smile and pushed Thomas off of him so he could grab his stuff.

Five minutes later they were strolling towards campus, hand in hand, the early afternoon sunshine warming their backs. Newt almost let himself become completely absorbed in how nice this was, how nice he felt, but he still had things he needed to say and ask. _No time like the present_ , he told himself.

“Tommy?”

“Mhmm?”

"Did you get drunk with your track buddies because you were upset over what happened with me?"

"Maybe," Thomas answered with a guilty smile. "They could tell I wasn't in a good way. Few of them asked what was going on, I spilled, they took me to a bar. The older guys kept buying shots and, yeah... sorry 'bout that. Again."

"Don't be. I just feel bad. You should've just called me straight away."

"I know, but Minho seemed super pissed, so I presumed that was because  _you_ were super pissed. I didn't wanna make things worse."

"Did Minho give you a hard time?" Newt asked, surprised to hear that Minho hadn't acted normal with Thomas after that night. He hadn't given any indication that he was holding what happened against Thomas personally.

"Not really, just didn't talk to me much."

"Oh."

"Yeah. It's cool though. I get it." His smile showed Newt that his words were genuine. 

A comfortable silence enveloped them for a few long moments before Newt jumped into the next question he felt the need for Thomas to answer.

“What did you tell Teresa? Before I came over to study the other night, I mean.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Newt watched as Thomas blushed.

“That I liked you,” he admitted. “She already knew, of course, always knows everything. Told me she’d tell you herself if I didn’t invite you over that very night.”

“Did she tell you I liked you?”

Thomas’ head shot up. He shook his head. “She _knew_?” Newt laughed.

“She really does know everything. She worked it out before I did.”

“Yeah, same here. I didn’t… well, I _knew_ how I felt deep down. Knew it from the beginning. But I didn’t accept it until, what? Wednesday?”

“Oh, you’re so behind. I reached that point on _Friday_. Ahead of the game, I am,” Newt joked.

“Did Minho know? Or did you have to tell him?”

“Tommy, I’m gonna save you some time. Everyone knew.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t they _tell us_?” Thomas whined.

“That’s what I said!” Newt squeezed Thomas’ hand, trying to convey his excitement that they were so very much on the same page. Thomas grinned in that way he often did when looking at Newt, like they were the only two people in on a private joke. Newt’s heart threatened to burst straight out of his chest; but there was something holding it back.

“Tommy?”

Thomas seemed to sense the change in Newt’s tone immediately. “Yeah?” he mumbled, not breaking eye contact (until he nearly tripped over someone’s dog).

Newt ignored the laughter bubbling in his throat at that and instead sucked in a deep breath. “I’m just gonna say it. The reason why I ignored my feelings for so long is because I’m really fuckin’ scared to lose you. You’re my best friend.”

They walked in silence for about a minute. Newt knew the lack of response should’ve scared him, but Thomas was rubbing a thumb over the back of his hand. He took this as a gentle reminder of “it’s okay, I’m still here” and waited patiently.

“I think that’s why I did, too. Just didn’t realise it until now.”

They arrived in front of the building Newt’s class was in and stopped, pulling off to the side so they weren’t in the way. Thomas leaned against the wall and dragged Newt into him; Newt was a little uncomfortable at such a public display of affection, but returned Thomas’ hug nonetheless.

“You won’t lose me. Even if you break my heart, I’ll still be your friend,” Thomas whispered.

Newt chuckled into his hair. “What makes you think _I’d_ break _your_ heart? Am I really that cold?”

“No, it’s because I couldn’t do it even if I tried,” Thomas said simply, pulling back. His face promptly lit up in wide-eyed disbelief. “Hey! That’s a song!”

“You’re an idiot,” Newt murmured, smiling as he kissed him goodbye. He groaned when Thomas started to sing against his lips. “Get out of here.”

“See ya later, babe!” Thomas winked. Newt rolled his eyes and flipped him off before jogging up the steps into the building.

“I don’t know you!” he called over his shoulder.

He’d barely been sat down for two seconds when his phone buzzed. He had one new text and two older ones. He opened the older ones first.

 

 

**To: Newt**

**From: Minho**

DID YOU BANG OR NOT

 

 

**To: Minho**

**From: Newt**

You have far too much interest in your friends’ sex lives

 

 

***

 

 

**To: Newt**

**From: Teresa**

I just saw Minho and OHHHHHH MY GODDDDDDDDD I’m sososososo happy for you!!! See you later <3

 

**To: Teresa**

**From: Newt**

Wow, that didn’t take long. Thanks though. Can’t wait x

 

 

***

 

 

**To: Newt**

**From: Tommy**

tonight is our first official date btw. pick you up at 8 sweetheart xxx

 

 

**To: Tommy**

**From: Newt**

Sounds good but we’re going to have to talk about the pet names. Not okay. Ruins my image x

 

 

**To: Newt**

**From: Tommy**

are you embarrassed by me? i’m wounded :-( my own boyfriend hates me

 

**To: Tommy**

**From: Newt**

Very… but “boyfriend” sounds pretty nice so I’ll let it slide

 

**To: Newt**

**From: Tommy**

:-) :-) :-) <3 <3 <3

 

 

And yeah, that last text from Thomas pretty much summed up everything Newt was feeling, even if it wasn’t exactly eloquently worded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOOOOOOSH here is the promised fluffy stuff i hope it was worth the wait
> 
> this is the longest chapter yet !!! and maybe my favourite one so far eeeeeek
> 
> we're so close to the end :( thank you so much for reading, commenting, leaving kudos and even dming me on twitter it really means a lot to me
> 
> <3333


	8. eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another party, another sleepover. Except now, everything is a little bit different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (WARNING bc there is the tiniest hint of sexual content but really not anything major)

To say Newt was feeling the pressure was an understatement. He knew most of his friends would ask a million questions about him and Thomas; he was presuming they already knew or would soon if Teresa and Minho had anything to do with it. Plus, it wasn’t like he was exactly planning on acting platonic around Tommy mere hours after they’d confessed their feelings. He was happy to act like a couple in public, he just hated the consequences of it. Teasing, questions and _pressure_. But he’d given himself a pep talk and forced himself to be excited. Well, _seem_ excited.

“Isn’t it weird that the three of us are arriving together?” Minho asked as they approached Gally’s front door.

“What, like we do at every damn party?” Newt replied. Not that he didn’t know where Minho was going with this.

“But it’s different now. You two should be making your debut appearance as a couple.”

Newt rolled his eyes and Thomas laughed. They paused right outside Gally’s apartment, turning to face Minho who had been trailing behind, complaining that he didn't want to seem like a third wheel.

“Nothing is different! We’re still allowed to hang out the three of us. What would be _weird_ is if you freaked out just because Tommy and I are… together.” Newt hoped that the other two hadn’t noticed his awkward pause before the mention of his and Thomas’ relationship status. 

“Okay, but if you guys ever want me to fuck off and leave you alone, just say, alright?” Minho said, holding up his hands and pushing past them into the apartment. Thomas smirked at Newt.

“At least he’s supportive,” Thomas joked before following Minho.

Newt sighed and walked through the door moments later. He was immediately hit by a wave of nerves that weren’t made much better by Frypan and Gally rushing up to him shouting “we knew it!” over and over again. He shoved them away with a glare and automatically looked around for Thomas. He couldn’t see him straight away and felt his heart rate increase dangerously.

Luckily, he didn’t have long to allow his anxiety to settle in before he was swept up by Teresa and dragged over to a quiet corner with her. It wasn’t until they stopped that Newt noticed Teresa had Thomas’ arm in her other hand. They shared a look before focusing back on their friend.

“So,” she said, eyes sparkling and a mischievous grin on her face. “How did it happen?”

“C’mon, T, not now,” Thomas groaned. 

“He got drunk and shoved his tongue down my throat,” Newt stated. Thomas’ mouth dropped open and he punched Newt in the shoulder, ignoring Teresa’s wild laughter.

“That’s — that wasn’t _it_!” Thomas protested. Newt smiled and gravitated towards him until they were side by side. He subtly reached out a finger and traced it along the back of Thomas’ hand. 

“Oh, Tom. That sounds about right,” Teresa cooed.

“No, that wasn’t really it. Just… the starting point,” Newt said softly. He was aware he should be looking at Teresa, since she was the person he was really addressing, but watching Thomas blush as he caressed his skin was much more interesting.

“Tell her what I did this morning and make me sound good, okay?” Thomas grinned. “I’m getting us drinks.”

Newt watched him walk away until he was out of sight before turning back to Teresa, who watched him with a knowing smirk.

“What?”

“Well? What did he do this morning?” 

“Oh,” Newt scoffed. “That. He bought me flowers to apologise, told me he liked me, blah blah blah. You get the picture.”

“No, no,” Teresa whined. “Don’t underplay this! C’mon, Newt. What type of flowers?”

Newt looked at her fluttering eyelashes and pleading expression and sighed. He couldn’t help the small, soft smile that pulled at the corners of his mouth, though.

“ _Sunflowers_. He said he liked me, I said I liked him. Then I asked if we were doing this properly, y’know, making it official. And we agreed we were. We hung out for a bit, he walked me to class. It was great. Happy now?”

“Very,” she promised, nodding.

“You could’ve made all this a lot easier by telling him I felt the same, by the way.”

“Oh, I know,” Teresa said. “But I felt like you guys should work it out yourselves. Plus, you’d have probably killed me.”

“Yeah, you’re not wrong.”

“Newt?” Teresa’s voice softened and Newt prepared for a “don’t hurt my best friend” speech or something of the sort. “I’m sorry I told you it was a date the other day. That probably wasn’t my smartest move. I hope you don’t think I was getting too involved.”

“That’s okay,” Newt said without hesitation. He was a little taken aback; both by Teresa’s apology and his own immediate forgiveness. He had been a little angry but realistically, that was at the very back of his mind after the past twenty four hour’s events. “I didn’t really take it literally, anyway.”

“Okay,” Teresa breathed out, clearly relieved. “I only said it because Tom seemed so sure that he would tell you that night. But as we both know, he’s an idiot.”

“Yeah,” Newt muttered, watching as Thomas danced his way through the crowd with a bottle of beer in each hand, spilling them a little as he went. “He is.”

Teresa slipped away without Newt noticing just as Thomas arrived back.

“Did you scare her off?”

“Hm?” Newt accepted the beer from Thomas and leaned back against the wall. He spotted Teresa a little way away, chatting animatedly with Minho and Brenda. “Oh, no. I don’t think so, anyway.”

“So, how bad was it? She tell you she was going to castrate you if you cheated on me, anything like that?”

Newt choked a little on his drink. “She’s done that before?”

“With Rachel, yeah. And we weren’t even together,” Thomas laughed.

“Oh.” Newt ignored the little jolt of discomfort her name sent through his veins. Not that he cared that Thomas had dated her; Newt wasn’t the jealous type. But it reminded him of six months ago and having his hopes of being with Thomas crushed by the mere mention of her name. Not that that mattered, not now. “Well, no. She didn’t threaten me one bit, actually. Just wanted to know more about what had happened between us.”

“Did you tell her about the flowers? She’ll love that,” Thomas said, beaming up at Newt. He laughed at Thomas’ eagerness to impress his friend.

“Yeah, I told her, Tommy.”

“Good. That’s good,” Thomas sighed. Newt thought he noticed his shoulders relaxing a little at the confirmation. He decided to test a theory he had jsut started to develop. Ignoring the urge to glance around and see who was watching them first, he put a hand on Thomas’ waist and leaned in to kiss him softly. The little sound of surprise Thomas made against his mouth confirmed to Newt that his suspicions were correct.

“You don’t actually think I’m embarrassed by you, d’ya?” he asked gently, face still very close to Thomas’. To soften the intensity of the question, he placed another kiss on Thomas’ cheek before pulling away and letting his back hit the wall again. Thomas took a step forward so that Newt was very much pinned in place; though there were still a few inches of space between them. They were surrounded by their friends, after all.

“Not exactly,” Thomas mumbled, picking at the label on his beer. “I just wasn’t sure how comfortable you’d be around others. With me. Y’know?”

“Mhmmm,” Newt hummed, now tracing a hand up and down Thomas’ side. “Well, I ain’t gonna lie to you, Tommy. PDA isn’t really my thing. And I was kinda dreading the millions of questions we’d get tonight, but looks like we got off lightly.”

Thomas laughed. “Yeah. I think Minho’s told them everything, already.”

“Everyone?”

“Well, the people who care,” Thomas continued, waving a hand lazily over his shoulder. “Gally and Fry, maybe Brenda. If Teresa didn’t get there first.”

“She probably did.”

“Yeah,” Thomas chuckled, still looking down at that damn bottle. Newt put a finger under his chin and lifted his head up so that he could meet his eyes.

“Tommy.”

“Newt.”

“I’m not embarrassed to be with you. Like, one bit.”

Thomas took a deep breath, eyes searching Newt’s for any trace of insincerity. “Okay. Okay, good that.”

They both leaned forward and met each other in the middle.

 

Turns out, Newt’s anxiety about the night ahead was (as usual) unnecessary. An hour later, he was sat on the arm of Thomas’ chair, watching Minho and Fry reenact scenes from _Titanic_ for charades. He was fairly sure everyone knew what movie they were doing and just didn’t want the hilarious impressions to stop.

When Gally started humming “My Heart Will Go On” but still refused to guess the right answer, everyone lost it.

“Did you guys notice everyone else left?” Brenda asked suddenly. Sure enough, their little group were the only people left. They’d been too caught up in their own fun to notice anyone else.

“Ah, well,” Gally shrugged. “I wasn’t too bothered about ‘em anyway.”

Newt tuned out of the following conversation, instead focusing on playing with a piece hair at the nape of Thomas’ neck. He twirled it around his fingers a few times until Thomas looked up at him, smiling questioningly. Newt merely grinned back. It was kind of weird, learning how to transition from best friends to boyfriends, but Newt was surprised to find himself thoroughly enjoying working out where their new boundaries lay. Adjusting to the fact that this was _allowed_ , now. This was okay.

“Is this what we have to put up with from now on?” Gally groaned, snapping his fingers between the two of them. So, maybe it wasn't okay with _everyone_.

“Yes,” Thomas answered simply. Newt laughed, pretending he wasn’t totally embarrassed at being caught staring into Thomas’ eyes like a lovesick puppy.

“It could be worse,” Minho said seriously. “Earlier I walked in on them fucking on the sofa.”

“That’s a _lie_!” Newt snapped. He looked around at his friends a little desperately. “Please don’t ever believe a word that he says.”

“I don’t know, man,” Fry sighed. “This time last week you were tryna tell us this guy was just your best friend. Can we really trust a word that comes out your mouth?”

Newt rolled his eyes harder than he had all day. And that was saying a lot.

“You guys were talking about me behind my back?” Thomas asked, pretending to be offended, though his arm was still draped across Newt’s leg.

“Be grateful,” Teresa answered. “If we hadn’t, your _boyfriend_ might’ve remained painfully oblivious for another six months.”

“You’re all awful,” Newt insisted — and he meant it; even if he was laughing along with the rest of them.

“Wait,” Minho said slowly. “Thomas, was Newt the person you broke up with Rachel for?”

Thomas’ cheeks burned brighter than the sun.

“Thanks, Minho,” he muttered grumpily.

“What’s that now?” Newt asked him, ignoring Minho’s elated laughter.

“Thomas told me he dumped her because there was someone else he was more interested in, but he wouldn’t say who.”

“Minho!” Teresa warned, slapping him on the back of his head. Luckily, Thomas didn’t look _that_ angry when he met Newt’s eyes. He did look mortified, though.

“You said you didn’t know until this week,” Newt whispered, glad that conversation had struck up elsewhere with the rest of the group.

“I didn’t know I had _feelings_ for you until this week. I knew I had a crush on you all along. Didn’t really feel right staying with her and constantly thinking about you.”

“Oh. That’s… yeah, right. Makes sense,” Newt stuttered, making Thomas laugh. At least they were both equally embarrassed, now.

Newt struggled to focus on what anyone else was saying as Thomas continued to trace patterns into his leg for the rest of the night, leaning as close to him as he possibly could without actually pulling him into his lap.

 

 

***

 

 

At the end of the night, as they all filtered out of the apartment and said their goodbyes, Newt felt a hand slip around his middle from behind and a chin rest on his shoulder.

“Come back to mine?” Thomas mumbled in his ear. Newt nodded eagerly and pulled away to tell Minho his plans. He was grateful the only response his roommate gave was a raised eyebrow.

 

Newt barely waited until the door had swung shut to push Thomas up against it. He kissed him without hesitation, holding him in place by his hips. Thomas let out a startled breath before weaving one of his hands up into Newt’s hair, the other pushing his jacket off. They were forced to separate when Newt’s arm got stuck.

“You’re not drunk this time, are you?” Newt asked, only partly joking. He finally managed to shrug his jacket off and started to fiddle with Thomas’ shirt buttons, waiting (impatiently) for the answer.

“No, no,” Thomas breathed out. “Only had two beers.”

“Same.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah.”

“You gonna undo it, then, or should I?” Thomas said boldly, smirking down at where Newt’s hands still clutched at the buttons. Newt raised an eyebrow at Thomas’ sudden cockiness.

“Didn’t realise we were in a rush, Tommy,” Newt teased. Thomas laughed and leaned forward to kiss Newt again, biting down on his lower lip. This swiftly prompted Newt into action and he popped open the shirt buttons as quickly as possible. Thomas chuckled and pulled it off, throwing it somewhere into the apartment.

“It’s practically been six months of foreplay,” Thomas mumbled. “Not sure I can wait much longer.”

Newt let out a breathless laugh, kicking his shoes off before stumbling backward towards the bed. Thomas had gotten to work on kissing down Newt’s neck, making it pretty difficult for him to get out a coherent response — or walk in a straight line, for that matter.

“Well, when you put it like that…” he managed to whisper. Summoning as much confidence as he could muster, he pushed Thomas away for a second so that he could lift off his t-shirt, then his own. Then he met Thomas’ mouth again, swiping his tongue eagerly over his lips. Thomas shuddered and Newt grinned into the kiss.

Newt spun them around and nudged Thomas until he fell onto the bed, swiftly following so that he was hovering over him.

“Oh God, okay. This is happening,” Thomas mumbled once Newt broke the kiss and trailed his lips over his neck and collar bones.

“Don’t freak out on me now, Tommy,”

“Not — fuck, not freaking out.”

Newt hummed against his ribcage and continued his journey downwards, peppering kisses across every inch of skin he met on his way. He reached Thomas’ hips and looked up at him for confirmation, running a finger along the waistband of his jeans. Once again, he needed to know that Thomas was as sure about this as _he_ was. Thomas nodded a little too quickly and Newt laughed before dipping his head back down.

 

“Tommy, it’s fine,” Newt said, knowing it would be a lot more convincing of a statement if he weren’t shaking with surpressed laughter.

“Shu’up. I’ve never been so humiliated in my life.”

Newt really was trying not to laugh, but Thomas’ bright red cheeks and messy hair and hand covering his eyes as he pouted were just too endearingly awkward not to.

“It wasn’t _that_ fast,” Newt tried. It came out completely sarcastic and Thomas groaned in response. Newt pried his hand away from his eyes. “Tommy.”

“No, don’t look at me,” Thomas said, though Newt could see a hint of a smile dancing across his features. “I am a disgusting excuse of a man and you deserve much, much better.”

“ _Tommy_ ,” Newt laughed. Thomas tried to wriggle away but Newt managed to roll on top of him and pin his body down with his own; they both sucked in a breath at the contact.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Newt replied in between kisses, finally managing to sound genuine. “Like y’said, six months of foreplay. Plus, I’m kinda flattered. Plus _plus_ , you’re yet to return the favour.”

Thomas’ eyes lit up deviously and Newt grinned as he was flipped onto his back unceremoniously.

 

Newt couldn’t tell if Thomas was asleep or not; his breathing had evened out and his eyes fluttered shut, but he still responded with a smile when Newt began carding his fingers through the soft, dark hair that flopped over his forehead. They faced each other, though Thomas now lay on his stomach; they’d been lying like this, staring at each other for what felt like hours, whispering occasional jokes or inconsequential comments. Newt had never felt so peaceful.

“You sleepin’?” Newt muttered.

“Mhmm,” was the eloquent response he received.

“That a yes or a no?”

“No.”

Newt smiled and continued playing with Thomas’ hair. His eyes drifted over every inch of the other boy’s features; his long lashes brushing his cheekbones, strong jaw, soft lips, freckled nose. He’d never been so happy to just exist in the same moment as someone else. The room was almost dark, illuminated only by the streetlights filtering in through the undrawn curtains. It was quiet and warm and everything Newt was feeling seemed intensified by the atmosphere.

“Stop staring at me, you weirdo,” Thomas mumbled. Newt drew his gaze up to meet his eyes and found them open again, sparkling with amusement.

“Sorry,” Newt whispered back, not meaning it at all. “Just thinkin’.”

“About what?”

Newt considered not telling him, because he’s bad at stuff like this. But Thomas had shown a few flickers of insecurity that Newt didn't know existed within him. He had always thought Thomas was so sure (if not a little oblivious sometimes) of himself and how he felt. He wanted to kiss those insecurities away, but he knew this time, words would do the job better. Newt wanted Thomas to know exactly how he felt about him.

“You.”

“What about me?” Thomas asked, smile spreading from his eyes to his mouth like something contagious; which it probably was, considering it caused Newt’s expression to mirror his.

“A couple things,” Newt said simply. “Like how I’m glad we became friends first. I’m happy we didn’t rush things, Tommy. Means we really _know_ what we want, y’know?”

“Yeah, I feel the same,” Thomas agreed. “Go on.”

“Impatient, aren’t ya?” Newt teased. Thomas merely grinned. “Was also thinkin’ that I like the way you notice little things about me.”

“Mmm? Like what?”

“Like my favourite flowers. Or when I’m feeling… weird. Feels nice when you pick up on stuff without me havin’ to say.”

“Maybe it’s because I’m just always watching you.”

Newt laughed. “Maybe. Or because you’re just a weirdly curious person.”

“That, too.”

“So, yeah. That’s all the soppiness you’re getting out of me tonight, alright?”

“Guess it’s my turn then,” Thomas smirked. “I like it when you call me an idiot. Is that weird?”

“Very.”

“It just feels…. feels like a term of endearment, coming from you. I think it’s your way of showing you like me.”

“Oh, is that so?” Newt muttered, embarrassed at the fact he was so damn transparent.

“It is so,” Thomas stated, nodding confidently. “Also, as much as I hate it when you put yourself down, I like it when you get all flustered over my compliments.”

“ _Flustered_?” Newt said incredulously. “Coming from you?”

“Shut up,” Thomas grinned.

“I like it when you tell me to shut up.”

“ _Shut up_.”

So Newt did — by sealing his lips over Thomas’ once again. It was a slow, lazy kiss, but Newt hoped that with every movement of his mouth Thomas could feel what he was trying to show him. Because he wasn’t ready to say it, not yet; after all, they’d only been dating for a day and Newt had only let _himself_ use the “L” word once, by accident. It was probably too soon to even be considering such a bold statement, but Newt had been glued to Thomas’ side for six months now, and he was fairly sure that he’d fallen for him the very first time he saw him, even though his brain had been a little late catching up with his heart.

Newt had a feeling Thomas got the hint though, because when they pulled apart his eyes were a little watery and his smile had grown even wider. He held a hand against Newt's face, running his thumb over his cheek, his lips, his jaw. 

“Night, Newt.”

“Night, Tommy.”

And if being in love with your best friend consisted of this — of kissing and whispering late into the night before falling asleep facing each other with legs and hands intertwined — Newt was pretty sure that it was something he could get used to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WAHHHHHHHH IM SO SAD IT'S OVER and so nervous this isn't a good enough ending uGH
> 
> i really didn't expect my little fic to get so much love and attention so thank you SO much i really am so grateful for all of you who've been following this ! 
> 
> and anyone who's reading in weeks/months to come hey from the past hope you enjoy it too
> 
> i am considering adding a few things to this series later on e.g. their first meeting, new stuff from teresa/minho's POV, the same stuff from thomas' POV so let me know if that's something you'd wanna read??
> 
> ANYWAY come be my friend on twitter i'm curednewts
> 
> peace out <333

**Author's Note:**

> let's be twitter FRIENDS i am @/curednewts


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